Psychological review

THE

Psychological Review

J. MARK BALDWIN
PRINCETON UNIVERSITY

EDITED BY

AND

J. McKEEN CATTELL
COLUMBIA COLLECT

WITH THE CO-OPERATION OP

ALFRED BINET, ECOLE DES HAUTES-ETUDES, PARIS; JOHN DEWEY, UNIVERSITY or

CHICAGO; H. H. DONALDSON, UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO; G. S. FULLERTON,

UNIVERSITY OF PENNSYLVANIA; WILLIAM JAMES, HARVARD UNIVERSITY ;

JOSEPH JASTROW, UNIVERSITY OF WISCONSIN ; G. T. LADD, YAL*

UNIVERSITY; HUGO MUNSTERBERG, HARVARD UNIVERSITY;

M. ALLEN STARR, COLLEGE OF PHYSICIANS AND SURGEONS,

NEW YORK ; CARL STUMPF, UNIVERSITY, BERLIN ;

and JAMES SULLY, UNIVERSITY COLLEGE,

LONDON.

,-

s*

Volume 2. 1895.

PUBLISHED BIMONTHLY BY

MACMILLAN & CO.,

66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK,
AND LONDON.

Copyright, 1895, by MACMILLAW * Co.

P7
v.v

CONTENTS OF VOLUME II.

Alphabetical indeces of names and subjects will be found at the end of the volume.

ARTICLES.

Page.

Hermann von Helmholtz and the New Psychology: C. STUMPF . x
The Theory of Emotion (II) : The Significance of Emotions : JOHN

DEWEY 13

The Muscular Sense and its Location in the Brain Cortex: M.

ALLEN STARR 33

A Location Reaction Apparatus : G. W. FITZ 37

The Knowiug of Things Together: WILLIAM JAMES .... 10$
Contributions from the Psychological Laboratory of Columbia Col-
lege (III). Experiments on Dermal Sensations: HAROLD
GRIPPING. The After- Image Threshold: S. I. FRANZ. . 125
Normal Defects of Vision in the Fovea: CHRISTINE LADD FRANKLIN 137
Proceedings of the Third Annual Meeting of the American Psycho-
logical Association, Princeton, 1894. 149

Preliminary Report on Imitation : JOSIAH ROYCE 217

.Studies from the Princeton Laboratory (I-^V) 236

Memory for Square-Size : J. MARK BALDWIN and W. J.

SHAW 236

Further Experiments on Memory for Square- Size: H. C.

WARREN and W. J. SHAW 239

The Effect of Size-Contrast upon Judgments of Position in the

Retinal Field: J. MARK BALDWIN 244

Types of Reaction : J. MARK BALDWIN 259

Sensations of Rotation : H. C. WARREN 237

The 'Haunted Swing 'Illusion: H. C. WOOD 277

Heat- Sensations in the Teeth: H. R. MARSHALL 278

The Psychology of Pain: C. A. STRONG 329

Experimental Induction of Automatic Processes 348

ill

IV CONTENTS OF VOLUME II.

Wellesley College Psychological Studies: directed by MARY W.

CALKINS 363

Dr. Jastroui on Community of Ideas of Men and Women :

CORDELIA C. NEVERS 363,

Prevalence of Par -amnesia : MARGARET B. SIMMONS . . . 367

Sensory Stimulation by Attention : J. G. HIBBEN 369

Practical Computation of the Median : E. W. SCRIPTURE . . . 376

The Second Year at the Yale Laboratory : E. W. SCRIPTURE . . 379
Some Observations on the Anomalies of Self -Consciousness (/) :

JOSIAH ROYCE 433

On Dreaming of the Dead: HAVELOCK ELLIS 458

Emotion, Desire and Interest : Descriptive: S. F. McLENNAN . 462

Reaction Time According to Race : R. MEADE BACHE .... 475
The Confusion of Function and Content in Mental Analysis : D. S.

MILLER 535

The Origin of a ' Thing ' and its Nature : J. MARK BALDWIN . 551
Some Observations on Anomalies on Self -Consciousness (II): JOSIAH

ROYCE 574

The Perception of Two Points not the Space- Threshold : GUY

TAWNY 585

DISCUSSION A^D REPORTS.

Mind and Body: Paul Shorey 43.

Attention as Intensifying Sensation: H. M. Stanley. ... 53

Pleasure-Pain and Emotion: H. R. Marshall 57

A Comment: E. B. Titchener 64

The Sensations are not the Emotion: G. M. Stratton . . . 173

A Correction: W. J 174

Recent Developments in the Theory of Emotion: D. Irons . 279

A Reply: Shadworth Hodgson 285

A Notice: Hugo Mtinsterberg 286

The New Psychology in Undergraduate Work : H. K. Wolfe . 382

A Rejoinder: G. S. Fullerton 388

Shadows of Blood- Vessels upon the Retina: C. Ladd Franklin 392

A Communication: G. T. Ladd 394

A Notice: H. Nichols 397

Pain Nerves: H. Nichols 487

Professor Watson on Reality and Time: J. Mark Baldwin . . 490

Physical Pain: H. R. Marshall . . . , 594

A Case of Subjective Pain : J. H. Claiborne 599

CONTENTS OF VOLUME II. V

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE.

Hallucination and Telepathy (Parish's Ueber Trugwahrneh-
mungen, Podmore's Apparitions and Thought-Transfer-
ence, Sidgwick's Report on Census of Hallucinations):
William James 65

Ethical (Seth's Study of Ethical Principles, Hodge's Kan-
tian Epistemology and Theism, Sharp's The Esthetic
Element in Morality) : J. G. Hibben, R. B. Johnson, L.
J°nes 7S» 320» 43°, 523» 634

Neurology: H. H. D., Adolph Meyer, H. C. Warren \ ?8' I94' 3°9

( 413, 512, 618

Vision: C. Ladd Franklin, E. B. Delabarre, J. McK. C. \ 84' 3I2' 4l6

516, 627

Taste: F. Kiesow , 89

Experimental (Binet's Psychologic des Grands Calculateurs,

Travaux du Daboratoire de la Sorbonne) : H. C. Warren . 92

Recognition and Association: M. W. Calkins 94

Logic and Epistemology: J. H. Tufts, G.S.F., A.B. "... 96

Anthropology: D. G. Brinton 100

Educational and Child Psychology: Earl Barnes, F. Tracy

101, 190, 507

Degeneration and Genius (Dallemagne's De'ge'nere's, Lombroso's
Entartung u. Genie, Nordau's Degeneration, Hirsch's

Genie u. Entartung) : W. J 287

Philosophical Remains of George Groom Robertson; J. S. . 175
Wundt's Lectures on Human and Animal Psychology: A.

Kirschmann 179

Ladd's Primer of Psychology: G. S. F 180

Deussen's Elements of Metaphysics: A. T. Ormond .... 181
Hyslop's Elements of Ethics: A. T. Ormond . . . . . . 184

Johnson's Universal Cyclopedia, I.-V. : J. D 189

Evolution and Biology (Osborn's From the Greeks to Darwin,
Willey's Amphioxus, Jordon's Factors in Organic Evolu-
tion, Gould's Dictionary of Biology, Collins' Epitome of
the Synthetic Philosophy): J. M. B., A. B., H. C. War-
ren 189, 413

Hearing: F. Angell 197

Attention and Memory: H. N. Gardiner 199

Reaction-Time: J. McK. C 200

Judgment and Belief : G. M. Duncan 20^

Pathological (Ziehen's Psychiatric, Dumas' Me"lankolie, Char-
cot's Clinique des maladies): William Noyes, A.B. . . 209

VI CONTENTS OF VOLUME II.

General (Conta's Theorie d'Ondulation, Pioger's La Vie et la

Pense"e, Vignoli's Peregrinazioni) : A. B., J. Phillippe, E.

A. Pace, C. W. Hodge 295, 612

Ladd's Philosophy of Mind: A. C. Armstrong, Jr 299

Hyslop's Syllabus of Psychology: R.B.Johnson 303

Mach's Popular Scientific Lectures: T. J. McCormack . . . 304

Social Psychology: J. H. Tufts 305, 407, 616

Memory and Attention : H. N. Gardiner 317

Pathological: H. H. D., A. B., F. Kiesow 325, 637

Watson's Comte, Mill, and Spencer: H. N. Gardiner . . . 398

Morgan's Introduction to Comparative Psychology: G. H. Mead 399

L'Anne'e Psychologique: J. M. B 402

Volkmann's Lehrbuch der Psychologic: J. M. B 403

Riehl's Science and Metaphysics: A. H. Lloyd 404

Criminology (Kurella's Naturgeschichte des Verbrechers) : J.

G. Hume 408

Consciousness and Imagination: E. C. Sanford, A. B., H. N.

Gardiner 419

Experimental: H. C. Warren, W. J. Shaw, L. Witmer . . . 421

Movement: A. B 428

Eraser's Locke's Essay: J. M. B 495

Brandt's Beneke : G. T. W. Patrick 496

Bosanquet's Essentials of Logic: J. G. Hibben 498

Ktilpe's Einleitung in die Philosophic: C. H. Judd .... 501

Marshall's Esthetic Principles: A. T. Ormond 504

Anthropometry: J. McK. C 510

Pathology: W. J., F. Kiesow 529

Balfour's Foundations of Belief: G. M. Duncan 600

Sergi's Dolore e Piacere : W. J 601

Wundt's Logik der Geisteswissenschaften: C. H. Judd . . . 604

Scripture's Thinking, Feeling, Doing: J. R. Angell .... 606
Schwartz* Umwalzungen der Wahrnehmungshypothesen : W.

R. Newbold 609

Haeckel's Monism: C. W. Hodge 611

Skin-Sensations: S. F. McLennan, C. H. Judd 630

Habit and Association : H. N. Gardiner 631

Maudsley's Pathology of Mind: J. M. B 637

New Books 103, 214, 328, 431, 533, 640

Notes 104, 216, 328, 432, 534, 641

VOL. II. No. i. JANUARY, 1895.

THE PSYCHOLOGICAL REVIEW.

HERMANN VON HELMHOLTZ AND THE NEW
PSYCHOLOGY.

BY PROFESSOR C. STUMPF,

University of Berlin.

Since the death of Darwin, the loss of no one in the sci-
entific world has made such a deep impression as that of
Helmholtz. And this is in keeping with that esteem and
admiration which in an ever-increasing measure is accorded
to his name in the Old and the New World as well, through-
out all scientific circles, and in that more practical sphere of
life which in the last decade especially has become so largely
dependent upon the services of science. From the early
beginning of his career, from the time of the anatomical and
chemical studies of his youth, all his researches were di-
rected towards high ends, and were crowned with great suc-
cess. Whenever he smote the rock of nature, there gushed
forth the living waters of knowledge. There have always
been and are well-rounded, disciplined minds, authors,
philosophers, and others, who are able to speak with easy
assurance concerning everything in this world, and of much
else besides. But they are not for the most part minds
which are themselves productive; they are, on the contrary,
mere imitators and makers of books. There have always been,
and are, moreover, also men of marked scientific note who
have proved productive in various widely divergent fields of
knowledge ; as, for instance, Thomas Young, who in Optics,
no less than in the science of Hieroglyphics, rendered con-
siderable service to his time; or, in a similar way, H. Grass-
mann. But a truly scientific spirit of extraordinary versa-

2 C. STUMPF.

tility, and yet at the same time evincing complete unity of
organization, with all its ideas harmoniously connected one
with another, such the world has indeed produced, but only
once in the century.

It would hardly be possible for any one man to-day to
succeed in understanding all of Helmholtz' investigations
equally well. But each will find a peculiar satisfaction in
recalling the special impulse which he has experienced in his
own department through the inspiration of Helmholtz. And
the representatives of Physiological Psychology should feel
themselves impelled to such a retrospect, since it is to that
science that Helmholtz dedicated himself at the zenith of his
power. The two works which have largely rendered his
name illustrious, and from which there has proceeded an
incalculable stimulus to other men, belong to our especial
province. Without in the least depreciating the thoroughly
original and fundamental contributions of E. H. Weber,
Fechner, and Lotze, nevertheless it must be acknowledged
that these two works, both on account of the scientific con-
sequences which have followed them, and of the general and
wide-spread knowledge of their contents throughout the
scientific world, have more than all others served to bridge
the gulf between Physiology and Psychology — a bridge
across which thousands of other men now constantly come
and go.

Like Dubois-Reymond, Briicke, Ludwig, Henle, Vir~
chow, Helmholtz also came from the school of Johannes
Miiller. The latter who, as early as 1822, when still a youth
of twenty-one, had defended the thesis * Nemo psychologus
nisi physiologus,' had early broken loose from the chains of
the Nature-philosophy of the school of Schelling, although
without repudiating altogether the spirit of philosophy. He
allied himself with Kant, Spinoza, Herbart. A certain taste
for philosophy, at least a friendly disposition towards phi-
losophy, was transmitted to his pupils. But in addition to
such an affinity we must also note the mode of exact obser-
vation of physical phenomena and the experimental method,
which were likewise introduced through Miiller into Ger-
man physiology. As a consequence of this method of re-

HERMA NN VON HELMHOL TZ A ND THE NE W PS YCHOLOG Y. 3

search, the scholars rejected the theory of ' Vital Force/
to which the master still adhered ; and in this highly import-
ant reform of the fundamental conceptions of organic life,
fraught with such weighty consequences, lay the principal
difference between the new and the old epochs. Helmholtz'
first work of the pioneer order, upon the ' Conservation of
Energy,' represents this new spirit of inquiry. In the in-
comparably interesting and stimulating discourse delivered
at the celebration of his seventieth birthday, he himself drew
attention to the fact that his sole object in this early work
had been the critical examination and classification of phe-
nomena in the interests of physiology. On the other hand,
the pupils of Mtiller maintained what was to them the funda-
mental law in the theory of sense-perception, — the doctrine
of the specific energies of the nerves, — although their formu-
lation of it did not include the Kantian elements which were
attached to the law as expounded by J. Miiller. Helmholtz
not only accepted the doctrine in general, but, as is well
known, applied it in detail in the spheres of Optics and
Acoustics, and maintained the diversity of the specific ener-
gies corresponding to differences of quality within one and
the same sense. A third generation is now empanelled upon
this very hook. Whatever we may wish to substitute for
the doctrine, we still find ourselves, in my opinion, involved
in great uncertainties and obscurities. But that is beside
the point here.

Intimately associated with the above-mentioned the-
ory, as far as the facts go, although not necessarily con-
nected with it, there arose with Miiller, and also in his
school, the clear and emphatic consciousness of the incom-
patibility of perception, and of psychological events in gen-
eral, with the processes of the outer world. Miiller had
expressed himself, it is true, only in a guarded manner con-
cerning the nature of the soul and its relation to the body ;
moreover, his ideas upon this subject can be made to agree
with those of his followers as little as their's in turn with
each other. But in two respects at least they were wholly
at one : that psychical activities occur only in strict cor-
relation with the physical, and yet that they are throughout

4 C. STUMP F.

peculiar both in their nature, and in the minor taws of
connection to which they are subject. Such formulas as the
following were wholly foreign to their thinking: that con-
sciousness is mere appearance, or really nothing (as the
modern followers of so-called ' Parallelism ' often express
themselves in curious inconsistency. Indeed, the doctrine
of the complete reality and unique peculiarity of the psy-
chical phenomena may be regarded as a characteristic feature
of that epoch.

While J. Miiller, after the appearance of his Handbuch
der Physiologic, turned his attention more to the develop-
ment of Comparative Anatomy, Helmholtz' investigations,
in accordance with his natural gifts, took quite another direc-
tion. He was naturally qualified to be a mathematical phy-
sicist of the first rank. While his class was reading Cicero
in the Gymnasium, he had been computing the path of light
beams through the telescope, and establishing certain propo-
sitions which were later used by him in his invention of the
Ophthalmoscope. He then became a physician for wholly
practical reasons, although by no means contrary to his own
tastes ; yet after the completion of his great works on psy-
chophysics he again turned his attention to mathematical
physics. His most essential reforms in the theories of hear-
ing and sight are due to his command of mathematical prin-
ciples, in connection, to be sure, with an unusual inclination
and aptitude for psychological analysis and with an extraor-
dinary inventive talent for the construction of apparatus.
In the latter respect, he himself makes the interesting
observation, that his youthful predisposition for geo-
metrical methods of treatment was developed in the course
of his many experiments into a kind of mechanical intuition ;
he could feel, as it were, how the angles and lines distribute
themselves in a mechanical contrivance, a peculiarity which
is also often found in experienced mechanics and machinists.

The < Physiological Optics ' appeared in parts during the
decade, 1856-66. The studies for this undertaking natu-
rally extended to a much earlier date. The invention of the
Ophthalmoscope in 1851 was already an incidental fruit of
his exhaustive studies in dioptrics. Then followed the sev-

HERMANN VON HELMHOL TZ A ND THE NE W PS YCHOLOG Y. 5

eral publications, upon the Theory of Color, upon Accom-
modation, upon the Telestereoscope. The great activ-
ity in optical investigations, especially in the fifties and six-
ties (consider, for instance, such names at Briicke, Dove,
Listing, Volkmann, Chevreul, Plateau, Fechner, Brewster,
Wheatstone, Maxwell), makes the high standard which
Helmholtz' work attained more easily comprehended, and
increases our astonishment at the intellectual force which
was able to gather under new and quickening points of view
this wealth of manifoldly divergent results, both native and
foreign, and work them into a consistent whole. We must
not overlook the fact also that Helmholtz took scarcely any
results from others without independent verification. Then
the subject of Dioptrics, which had been to a certain extent
already written out, received thorough revision, both theo-
retical and experimental, at his hands. The methods were
perfected in both their applications (Opthalmometer, Micro-
optometer), all the constants in the investigation of the eye
more accurately determined, and the mechanism of accom-
modation cleared up in its essential features.

In the subsequent portions of the work in which Helm-
holtz establishes the peculiar distinction between sensation,
(as of color) and perception (as of space), the following form
the principal features : the revival and detailed elaboration
of Young's Theory of Color — the first comprehensive dis-
cussion of the complex relations of color sensations — and
the development of the empirical theory of space. The two
theories have passed into nearly all the text-books of Physi-
ology, and have had numberless popularizations; the very
best, indeed, of these being by Helmholtz himself, whose
Popular-wissenschaftliche Vortrdge call out our ever-increas-
ing admiration. Throughout the extensive range of the
popular science literature of Germany, there are very few
counterparts to these lectures. They are unpretentious and
yet, while in good taste, sufficiently ornate ; they preserve
as admirably the golden mean between excessive diffuseness,
on the one hand, and too rigid concentration on the other ;
they are equally free from anecdotes and rhetorical extrava-
gances, and especially free from the common method of first

6 C. STUMP F.

caricaturing old or opposed views in order to set them aside
with superior wisdom as childish and absurd.

Since then, as is well known, the theory of color has
been zealously attacked from many quarters, and other theo-
ries, especially that of Hering, have been opposed to it.
The decision in this controversy is still in abeyance. It
would not be becoming for me to enter the lists for either
side in this connection. To psychologists, however, the
question should present itself more strongly than heretofore,
whether the so-called composite colors, in distinction from
the primary colors, really result from a number of simulta-
neous sensations, after the analogy of a chord of tones, or
whether, on the other hand, these combined color appear-
ances which originate in one and the same place on the
retina, constitute an absolutely simple sensation. If I un-
derstand them aright, both Helmholtz and Hering uphold
the former view, while the majority of psychologists sup-
port the latter, and there has been no adequate discussion
of the matter. For each investigator seems to consider his
own view self-evident.

An especially attractive part of Helmholtz' theory of
color, from a psychological point of view, is his explanation
of simultaneous contrast. He here introduces a principle
which he also turned to good account on other occasions:
that, by virtue of our past experiences, we often come to
judge and designate objects of sense as quite different from
what they really appear to us at the moment to be.

Notwithstanding the masterly elucidation of this princi-
ple, the conviction has now become quite general, princi-
pally through the exhaustive researches of Hering, that
Helmholtz, through a combination of circumstances, was led
to resort to an artificial explanation instead of postulating a
simple reciprocal action of contiguous nerve-elements upon
one another. This leads us to see that it is the sensation
itself which is altered, not the judgment alone. Neverthe-
less, this principle of explanation is so far forth of value, and
it remains an important fact that deceptions respecting the
nature of sensation which can be very well distinguished from
real illusions, are often brought about through experience.

HERMANN VON HELMHOL TZ AND THE NE W PS YCHOLOG Y. 7

It was also in this book that Helmholtz first made use of
* unconscious inference ' in his explanations, although the
idea and the theory itself were first definitely stated in con-
nection with his theory of space. The process through which
such false judgments, as that of color-contrast, are produced,
seemed to him to be analogous to the process of true infer-
ence. The misuse which many naturalists and philosophers,
who had felt the influence of Schopenhauer, made of this
theory, to bolster up various shallow views, gave Helm-
holtz an occasion later to revise his view and to substitute
for unconscious inference a process of association, which cer-
tainly is truer to the psychological facts. Moreover, we
must take into consideration the fact that Helmholtz, in the
Physiologische Optik, expressed himself guardedly and with
some reservation concerning unconscious inference. He
says: " Although, indeed, the similarity of these psychical
phenomena with those of conscious inference has been dis-
puted, and perhaps will continue to be disputed, still the
similarity of the results is not at all in doubt."

In the theory of space perception Helmholtz departs
wholly, as is well known, from Joh. Miiller, and erects an
imposing structure on quite a different plan. Miiller had
made the perception of the third dimension a matter of
empirical judgment, but he had not determined the neces-
sary moments of the process precisely. It was probably
the investigations of Wheatstone in single vision with non-
identical points and the observations of single vision in
certain squint-eyed persons, together with Lotze's ingenious
disquisition upon the space-problem, which gave rise to the
first tendency in this direction. Helmholtz opposes the
empirical to the nativist theory. Even those who are of the
opinion that no one can be wholly just to the established
psychological facts without certain concessions to the theory
of nativism will, nevertheless, still most readily acknowledge
the credit which Helmholtz has won for himself in his treat-
ment of this cardinal question. The antithesis between
nativism and empiricism has still more extended bearings;
it appears in nearly every psychological question ; it charac-
terizes entire schools which have been opposed to one

8 C. STUMPF.

another, especially in English psychology, for a long time.
The exhaustive investigation of the materials for the theory
of space from an empirical standpoint has greatly lightened
the critical examination of the same for all subsequent
thinkers. Always in the habit of searching for certain and
clear criteria, Helmholtz sought some characteristic mark to
distinguish between that which is a real sensation and that
which arises from some supplementary experience. That isr
he recognizes as sensation only that part of our intuition
which can not be accounted for through assignable experi-
ence processes, which might have produced a contrary
result.

Another principle of great value, also, to acoustics, con-
cerns the discrimination of simultaneous sensations. We
have been accustomed to regard a total of sensations con-
stantly presented together as a common sign for a single
object, and the discrimination of these sensations is thereby
rendered more difficult. This principle he applied espe-
cially to the explanation of experiences of single-vision. The
Physiologische Optik, as is well known, contains also his
philosophical theory of the relation of our consciousness to
the outer world, to which Helmholtz in his Thatsachen der
Wahrnehmung latterly returned, the theory that the a priori
self-evident law of causation necessitates the acceptation by
us of an outer world ; that, however, our knowledge of this
outer world must remain essentially a symbolical one, and
that our sensations are merely signs of what is real. On the
occasion of his 'Jubilee,' Helmholtz spoke in quite an elegiac
strain of the reception which these views had received at the
hands of philosophers. Without inquiring to what extent
the blame may be due to certain weaknesses of his represen-
tation, or to what extent, also, to the high plane of discus-
sion and the subtilty of his general concepts, or on the
other hand to the dearth of clear thinking on the part of
some at least of the philosophers who have not passed
through the exacting discipline of physics, we are, how-
ever, certain that all his philosophical colleagues felt
extremely thankful to him for his gifts in this direction also.
In my own personal opinion, at least, the theory of the

HERMANN VON HELMHOL TZ AND THE NE W PS YCHOLOG Y. 9

symbolical knowledge of the outer world really hits upon
the right conception. But be that as it may, at any rate the
introduction of such considerations into his work, and the
accompanying evidence of the deepest interest in philosophi-
cal problems, has been largely instrumental in keeping alive
and stimulating such interest among students of nature in
all lands.

The number of new investigations which were published
after the appearance of the Physiologische Optik, and called
forth by that work, made a new edition of the book desi-
rable long ago. The author had, however, in the mean-
time turned to other spheres of investigation, as that of
electro-dynamics, and it was not astonishing that he decided
only lately upon it, when it was no longer possible for
him to give due attention to the large amount of material
at hand. The successive parts of this work followed each
other at ever lengthening intervals of time. The serious
misfortune which befel the aged investigator last autumn
upon his homeward journey from America urged him more-
over to a careful husbanding of his strength, and so made it
possible that he should allow the last portion of the work,
which includes the discussion of contrast-phenomena, to
appear with no reference to Hering's labors in this sphere.
This will always be most deeply regretted. The half of the
work which still remains unpublished will have to be simply
reprinted, only perhaps with a revision of the bibliographical
references.

The second psycho-physical work, Lehre von den Ton-
empfindungen, was published in 1863, during one of the inter-
vals in the publication of the several parts of his first work.
Studies extending through many years had preceded also in
this field, some of which were already published, Ueber
Klangfarbe der Vocale, Ueber Combinationstone, etc., also the
popular lecture upon « Physiological Causes of Musical Har-
mony,' 1857, m which the outlines of the whole work were
sketched. One can hardly picture the immense intel-
lectual labor which the carrying out of two such literary
projects simultaneously must have involved. However, the
problems in the theory of sensation were reciprocally illumi-

10 C. STUMPF.

nated, and it was precisely the similarity of the phenomena
in the two spheres which led Helmholtz to the common
view-point already mentioned above. It was during the at-
tractive period of the days of Bonn and Heidelberg that, as
he himself afterwards related, while leisurely tramping over
the wooded hills, these ideas flowed in upon his mind.

Indeed this second work seems, externally in the form of
its presentation, to betray the influence of such a happy mood
and friendly environment. It not only treats of the funda-
mental principles of art, but is itself truly a work of art,
and that, too, without any flowers of rhetoric. It is confined
to the simple unfolding of the absolutely essential features
of the subject. His mightiest weapon, the mathematical
calculations and the deductions from previously published
computations, was relegated to the Appendix. In the text
itself only the manifest principles of the theory are presented
to the reader ; he is led step by step from the simplest truths
of physical acoustics to their physiological conditions, until
finally, deep in the center of the system, he is brought to the
consideration of the musical scales and harmony, and over
the threshold into the aesthetics of music. Here the author
deliberately stops.

In Acoustics, too, the achievements of Helmholtz were
not creations out of nothing. The illustrious labors of others
preceded them — -especially Fourier's demonstration of the
possibility of resolving any periodic vibration into a number
of simple harmonic vibrations; Ohm's definition of simple
tones by means of harmonic vibrations, and his corres-
pondence with Seebeck (in which Ohm approached very near
to the correct explanation of timbre); Seebeck's theory of
sympathetic vibrations ; Wilhelm Weber's investigations con-
cerning reed-pipes; Joh. Miiller's experimental studies upon
vibrating membranes and the human voice ; Chladni's care-
taking observations, and finally on the side of the theory
of music, Rameau's application of the overtone to the
theory of harmony. That the application of the theory
of beats in the preceding century for a similar purpose
had already been attempted, was probably not known

HERMANN VON HELMHOL TZ AND THE NE W PS YCHOLOG Y. 1 1

to Helmholtz. But he was familiar with the the hypothe-
sis of an isolation of tones in the cochlea held by many
physiologists . of the preceding decade, and Harless in
Wagner's Dictionary had in fact treated the organ of
Corti accordingly. There is, however, a vast difference be-
tween the expression of a thought in general terms and the
presenting of it in its concrete setting or in its connection
with a mass of facts, and it is a long way from eminent labors
along single lines and from a one-sided standpoint, to the
comprehensive, all around investigation of this entire field,
which inspected all sides of the problem impartially, and
went even into the depths of the history of music. The
work has passed through four editions. Owing to the com-
paratively small number of subsequent works, as well as to
the almost universal acquiescence in his opinions, it was pos-
sible to satisfy the demand for new editions without too great
difficulty. The most essential changes concerned the signi-
ficance of the organ of Corti (from the first to the second
edition) and the theory of the psychological conditions of
tone-analysis (from the third to the fourth edition). It seems
almost a pity to have to acknowledge that even this mag-
nificently constructed work will not in all its main features
defy the ravages of time. This is, however, my firm convic-
tion. The explanation of timbre, that old riddle, will, how-
ever, remain a permanent acquisition. But whether it was
correct to deduce timbre and consonance from one and the
same principle, that of the overtones, and to define disso-
nance by means of beats, that is the chief question.

What human achievement, however, can defy time and
know no change? Considerations of a critical nature will
not disturb the satisfaction with which we feel that our
century has beheld an immense advance of science, and that
we ourselves were contemporaries of the man who accom-
plished it. Only in the last few months has it been the
privilege of the writer of these lines to know him. Whoever
has been thus fortunate will always hold in lively remem-
brance the massive head, the large, thoughtful eyes, the
repose of manner, the modest and unpretentious bearing.

12 C. STUMPF.

But we shall always retain as his most valuable legacy the
inseparable union of scientific and philosophical research,
and the profound conception of the mental life, grounded
throughout upon actual facts, and for that very reason the
loftier and more truly ideal.*

* Translated from the author's manuscript by Professor John Grier Hibben,.
Princeton College.

THE THEORY OF EMOTION.
(II.) THE SIGNIFICANCE OF EMOTIONS.

BY PROFESSOR JOHN DEWEY,

University of Chicago.

In a preceding article l I endeavored to show that all the
so-called expressions of emotion are to be accounted for not
by reference to emotion, but by reference to movements
having some use, either as direct survivals or as disturb-
ances of teleological coordinations. I tried to show that,
upon this basis, the various principles for explaining emo-
tional attitudes may be reduced to certain obvious and typi-
cal differentia within the teleological movements. In the
present paper I wish to reconsider the James-Lange, or dis-
charge, theory of the nature of emotion from the standpoint
thus gained ; for if all emotions (considered as ' emotional
seizures,' Affect* or 'feel,' as I may term it) are constituted
by the reflexion of the teleological attitude, the motor and
organic discharges, into consciousness, the same princi-
ple which explains the attitude must serve to analyze the
emotion.

The fact, if it be a fact, that all ' emotional expression '
is a phase of movements teleologically determined, and not a
result of pre-existent emotion, is itself a strong argument for
the discharge theory. I had occasion to point out in my pre-
vious article that the facts brought under the head of « antith-
esis ' and < analogous stimuli ' are absolutely unaccountable
upon the central theory, and are matters of course upon the
James theory. But this statement may be further general-
ized. If every emotional attitude is referred to useful acts,
and if the emotion is not the reflex of such act, where does

1 PSYCHOLOGICAL REVIEW, Nov., 1894.
'See this REVIEW, Sept., 1894, p. 523.

13

14 JOHN DEWEY.

it come in, and what is its relation to the attitude? The
first half of the hypothesis prevents its being the antecedent
of the attitude ; the latter half of the hypothesis precludes
its being the consequent. If it is said that the emotion is a
mere side issue of that central excitation (corresponding to
the purpose) which issues in the muscular and organic
changes, then we are entitled to ask, a priori, for some
explanation of its unique appearance at this point, some sort
of mechanical or teleological causa essendi ; and, a posteriori,
to point out that, as matter of fact, every one now supposes
that his emotion, say of anger, does have some kind of direct
relation to his movements — in fact, common usage compels
us to speak of them as movements of anger. I think, then,
that logic fairly demands either the surrender of the * central '
theory of emotion or else a refutation of the argument of
the preceding paper, and a proof that emotional attitudes
are to be explained by reference to emotion, and not by
reference to acts.

More positively, this reference to serviceable movement
in explanation of emotional attitudes, taken in connection
with the hypothesis that the emotional « feel ' is always due
to the return wave of this attitude, supplies a positive tool
for the analysis of emotion in general and of particular emo-
tions in especial. As indicating the need of a further con-
sideration, it may be pointed out that Mr. James himself lays
the main emphasis of his theory upon its ability to account
for the origin of emotions, and as supplying emotion with a
'physical basis,' not upon the psychological analysis which
it might yield of the nature of emotional experience. Indeed,
James definitely relegates to the background the question of
classification,1 saying that the question of genesis becomes
all-important. But every theory of genesis must become a
method of analysis and classification. The discharge theory
does, indeed, give the coup de grace to the fixed pigeon-hole
method of classification, but it opens the door for the genetic
classification. In other words, it does for the emotions pre-
cisely what the theory of evolution does in biology ; it de-
stroys the arbitrary and subjective schemes, based on mere

1 Psychology, Vol. II., p. 454 and p. 485.

THE THEORY OF EMOTION, 15

possession of likenesses and differences, and points to an ob-
jective and dynamic classification based on descent from a
given functional activity, gradually differentiated according
to the demands of the situation. The general conclusion
indicated regarding the nature of emotion is that :

Emotion in its entirety is a mode of behavior which is
purposive, or has an intellectual content, and which also
reflects itself into feeling or Affects, as the subjective valua-
tion of that which is objectively expressed in the idea or
purpose.1

This formula, however, is no more than a putting together
of James' theory with the revision of Darwin's principles
attempted in the last number. If an attitude (of emotion) is
the recurrence, in modified form, of some teleological move-
ment, and if the specific differentia of emotional consciousness
is the resonance of such attitude, then emotional excitation is
the felt process of realization of ideas. The chief interest
lies in making this formula more specific.

In the first place, this mode of getting at it relieves Mr.
James's statement of the admittedly paradoxical air which
has surrounded it. I can but think that Mr. James' critics
have largely made their own difficulties, even on the basis of
his ' slap-dash ' statement that " we feel sorry because we cry,
angry because we strike, afraid because we tremble." The
very statement brings out the idea of feeling sorry, not of
being sorry. On p. 452 (Vol. II) he expressly refers to his
task as " subtracting certain elements of feeling from an emo-
tional state supposed to exist in its fulness " (italics mine).
And in his article in this REVIEW (Sept., 1894), he definitely
states that he is speaking of an Affect^ or emotional seizure.
By this I understand him to mean that he is not dealing with

1 In my Psychology, e.g., p. 19 and pp. 246-249, it is laid down, quite schematic-
ally, that feeling is the internalizing of activity or will. There is nothing novel in
the doctrine ; in a way it goes back to Plato and Aristotle. But what first fixed my espe-
cial attention, I believe, upon James' doctrine of emotion was that it furnishes this old
idealistic conception of feeling, hitherto blank and unmediated, with a medium of
translation into the terms of concrete phenomena. I mention this bit of personal his-
tory simply as an offset to those writers who have found Mr. James' conception so
tainted with materialism. On the historical side, it may be worth noting that a crude
anticipation of James' theory is found in Hegel's Philosophie des Geistes, § 401.

1 6 JOHN DE WE Y.

emotion as a concrete whole of experience, but with an abstrac-
tion from the actual emotion of that element which gives it
its differentia — its feeling quale, its * feel.' As I understand
it, he did not conceive himself as dealing with that state
which we term 'being angry,' but rather with the peculiar
' feel ' which any one has when he is angry, an element which
may be intellectually abstracted, but certainly has no exist-
ence by itself, or as full-fledged emotion-experience.

What misled Mr. James' critics, I think, was not so much
his language, as it was the absence of all attempts on his part
to connect the emotional seizure with the other phases of the
concrete emotion-experience. What the whole condition of
being angry, or hopeful or sorry may be, Mr. James nowhere
says, nor does he indicate why or how the ' feel ' of anger is
related to them. Hence the inference either that he is con-
sidering the whole emotion-experience in an inadequate way,
or else — as Mr. Irons took it — that he is denying the very
existence of emotion, reducing it to mere consciousness of
bodily change as such. Certainly, even when we have ad-
mitted that the emotional differentia, or 'feel', is the reverber-
ation of organic changes following upon the motor response
to stimulus, we have still to place this ' feel ' with reference
to the other phases of the concrete emotion-experience.
' Common sense ' and psychological sense revolt at the sup-
posed implication that the emotional « feel ' which constitutes
so much of the meaning of our lives is a chance arrival, or a
chance super-imposition from certain organic changes which
happen to be going on. It is this apparently arbitrary isola-
tion which offends.

If, preparatory to attempting such a placing, we put
before us the whole concrete emotional experience, we find,
I think, that it has two phases beside that of Affect, or seizure,
(i) It is a disposition, a mode of conduct, a way of behaving.
Indeed, it is this practical aspect of emotion which common
speech mainly means to refer to in its emotional terms.
When we say that John Smith is very resentful at the treat-
ment he has received, or is hopeful of success in business, or
regrets that he accepted a nomination for office, we do not
simply, or even chiefly, mean that he has a certain < feel '

THE THEOR Y OF EMO TION. 1 7

occupying his consciousness. We mean he is in a certain
practical attitude, has assumed a readiness to act in certain
ways. I should not fear a man who had simply the « feel ' of
anger, nor should I sympathize with one having simply the
« feel ' of grief.1 Grief means unwillingness to resume the
normal occupation, practical discouragement, breaking-up
of the normal reactions, etc., etc. Just as anger means a
tendency to explode in a sudden attack, not a mere state
of feeling. We certainly do not deny nor overlook the
4 feel ' phase, but in ordinary speech the behavior side of
emotion is, I think, always uppermost in consciousness.
The connotation of emotion is primarily ethical, only sec-
ondarily psychical. Hence our insulted feeling when told (as
we hastily read it — our interpretation is ' slap-dash ' rather
than the sentence itself) that we are not angry until we strike,
for the sudden readiness to injure another is precisely what
we mean by anger. Let the statement read that we do not
have the emotional seizure, the* « feel ' of anger, till we strike,
or clench our fist, or have our blood boil, &c., and the state-
ment not only loses its insultingly paradoxical quality, but
(unless my introspection meets a different scene from that of
others) is verified by every passing emotion. (2) But the
full emotional experience also always has its ' object' or intel-
lectual content. The emotion is always « about ' or « toward '
something ; it is « at ' or « on account of ' something, and this
prepositional reference is an integral phase of the single
pulse of emotion ; for emotion, as well as the idea, comes
as a whole carrying its distinctions of value within it. The
child who ceases to be angry at something — were it only the
floor at last — but who keeps up his kicking and screaming,
has passed over into sheer spasm. It is then no more an
emotion of anger than it is one of aesthetic appreciation. Dis-

1 1 take it that this separation of ' feel ' from practical attitude is precisely what
makes the difference between an emotional and a sentimental experience. The fact that
the ' feel ' may be largely, though never wholly, simulated, by arousing certain organic
excitations apart from the normal practical readiness to behave in a certain way, has
played a sufficiently large part in our ' evangelical ' religions. The depth, in a way,
and the hollowness, in another way, of the subjectively induced religious sentiments
seems to me, in itself, a most admirable illustration of the truth of James* main con-
tention.

18 JOHN DEWEY.

gust, terror, gratitude, sulkiness, curiosity — take all the
emotions seriatim and see what they would be without the
intrinsic reference to idea or object. Even the pathological
or objectless emotion is so only to the rational spectator. To
the experiencer (if I may venture the term) it subsumes at
once its own object as source or aim. This feeling of depres-
sion must have its reason ; the world is dark and gloomy ; no
one understands me ; I have a dread disease ; I have commit-
ted the unpardonable sin. This feeling of buoyancy must
have its ideal reference; I am a delightful person, or one of
the elect or have had a million dollars left me.1

It is perhaps at this point that the need of some recon-
struction which will enable us to place the phases of an entire
emotional experience becomes most urgent. In Mr. James'
statement the experience is apparently (apparently, I say ; I
do not know how much is due to the exigency of discussion
which necessitates a seeming isolation) split up into three
separate parts : First comes the object or idea which operates
only as stimulus ; secondly, the mode of behavior taken as
discharge of this stimulus ; third, the Affect, or emotional exci-
tation, as the repercussion of this discharge. No such seriality
or separation attaches to the emotion as an experience. Nor
does reflective analysis seem to establish this order as the
best expression of the emotion as an object of psychological
abstraction. We might almost infer from the way Mr.
James leaves it that he is here a believer in that atomic or
mosaic composition of consciousness which he has so effec-
tively dealt with in the case of intellectual consciousness.
However this may be, Mr. James certainly supplies us, in the
underlying motif of this « chapter' on emotion, with an ade-
quate instrument of reconstruction. This is the thought that
the organic discharge is an instinctive reaction, not a response
to an idea as such.

Following the lead of this idea, we are easily brought to
the conclusion that the mode of behavior is the primary thing,
and that the idea and the emotional excitation are constituted at
one and the same time ; that, indeed, they represent the tension

1 I do not .nean, of course, that every ' pathological ' emotion creates an intellec-
tual delusion ; but it does carry with it a changed intellectual coloring, a different
direction of attention.

THE THEORY OF EMOTION. 19

of stimulus and response within the coordination which makes
up the mode of behavior.

It is sheer reflective interpretation to say that the activity
in anger is set up by the object, if we by object mean some-
thing consciously apprehended as object. This interpreta-
tion, if we force it beyond a mere way of speaking into the
facts themselves, becomes a case of the psychological fallacy.
If my bodily changes of beating heart, trembling and run-
ning legs, sinking in stomach, looseness of bowels, etc., fol-
low from and grow out of the conscious recognition, qua
conscious recognition, of a bear, then I see no way for it but
that the bear is already a bear of which we are afraid — our
idea must be of the bear as a fearful object. But if (as Mr.
James' fundamental idea would imply, however his lan-
guage may read at times) this reaction is not to the bear as
object, nor to the idea of bear, but simply expresses an in-
stinctive coordination of two organic tendencies, then the
case is quite different. It is not the idea of the bear, or the
bear as object, but a certain act of seeing, which by habit,
whether inherited or acquired, sets up other acts. It is the
kind of coordination of acts which, brought to sensational con-
sciousness, constitutes the bear a fearful or a laughable or
an indifferent object. The following sentence, for example,,
from James (this REVIEW, Vol. I. p. 518) seems to involve a
mixture of his own theory with the one which he is engaged
in combatting: " Whatever be our reaction on the situation,,
in the last resort it is an instinctive reaction on that one of its
elements which strikes us for the time being as most vitally im-
portant." The conception of an instinctive reaction is the rele-
vant idea; that of reaction upon an element « which strikes
us as important' the incongruous idea. Does it strike us,
prior to the reaction, as important ? Then, most certainly,
it already has emotional worth ; the situation is already de-
lightful and to be perpetuated, or terrible and to be fled, or
whatever. What does recognition of importance mean aside
from the ascription of worth, value — that is, aside from the
projection of emotional experience ? 1 But I do not think

1 It seems to me that the application of James' theory of emotion to his theory of
attention would give some very interesting results. As it now stands, the theory

2O JOHN DE WE Y.

James' expression in this and other similar passages is to be
taken literally. The reaction is not made on the basis of
the apprehension of some quality in the object; it is made
on the basis of an organized habit, of an organized coordina-
tion of activities, one of which instinctively stimulates the
other. The outcome of this coordination of activities consti-
tutes, for the first time, the object with such and such an
import — terrible, delightful, etc. — or constitutes an emotion
referring to such and such an object. For, we must insist
once more, the frightful object and the emotion of fear are
two names for the same experience.

Here, then, is our point of departure in placing the
'feel,' the 'idea,' and the 'mode of behavior' in relation to
one another. The idea or object which precedes and stimu-
lates the bodily discharge is in no sense the idea or object
(the intellectual content, the ' at ' or 'on account of ') of the
emotion itself. The particular idea, the specific quality or
object to which the seizure attaches, is just as much due to
the discharge as is the seizure itself. More accurately and
definitely, the idea or the object is an abstraction from the
activity just as much as is the ' feel ' or seizure. We have
certain organic activities initiated, say in the eye, stimulating,
through organized paths of association in the brain, certain
activities of hands, legs, etc., and (through the coordination
of these motor activities with the vegetative functions neces-
sary to maintain them) of lungs, heart, vaso-motor system,
digestive organs, etc. The ' bear ' is, psychologically, just
as much a discrimination of certain values, within this total
pulse or coordination of action, as is the feeling of 'fear.'
The ' bear ' is constituted by the excitations of eye and
coordinated touch centres, just as the ' terror' is by the dis-
turbances of muscular and glandular systems. The reality,
the coordination of these partial activities, is that whole
activity which may be described equally well as ' that terri-
ble bear,' or ' Oh, how frightened I am.' It is precisely

4 in attention ' of preferential selection on the basis of interest seems to contradict the
theory of emotional value as the outcome of preferential selection (that is, specific reac-
tion). But the contradiction is most flagrant in the case of effort, considered, first, as
emotion and then as an operation of will.

THE THEOR Y OF EMO TION. 2 I

and identically the same actual concrete experience; and
the 'bear,' considered as one experience, and the 'fright,'
considered as another, are distinctions introduced in reflec-
tion upon this experience, not separate experience. It is the
psychological fallacy again if the differences which result
from the reflection are carried over into the experience itself.
If the fright comes, then the bear is not the bear of that par-
ticular experience, is not the object to which the feeling
attaches, except as the fright comes. Any other supposition
is to confuse the abstract bear of science with the concrete
(just this) bear of experience.

The point may be further illustrated by the objection
which Mr. Irons has brought against the James theory.
(Mind, 1894, p. 85). "How can one perceptive process of
itself suffuse with emotional warmth the cold intellectuality
of another?" Note here the assumption of two distinct
'processes', apparently recognizing themselves as distinct,
or anyhow somehow marked out as different in themselves.
The continued point of Mr. Irons' objection is that Mr. James
makes intellectual and emotional ' states ', (values) the knowl-
edge of an object and the emotion referred to it, both due to
currents from the periphery, and the same kind of current
cannot be supposed to induce such radically different things
as an intellectual and an emotional process. The objection
entirely overlooks the fact that we have but the one organic
pulse, the frightful bear, the frightened man, whose reality
is the whole concrete coordination of eye — leg — heart, &c.,
activity, and that the distinction of cold intellectuality and
warm emotionality is simply a functional distinction within
this one whole of action. We take a certain phase which serves
a certain end, namely, giving us information, and call that intel-
lectual ; we take another phase, having another end or value,
that of excitement, and call that emotional. But does any
one suppose that, apart from oiir interpretation of values, there
is one process in itself intellectual, and another process in
itself emotional ? I cannot even frame an idea of what is
meant. 1 can see that the eye-touch process gives us infor-
mation mainly, and so we call that intellectual ; and that the
heart-bowels process gives us the valuation of this informa-

22 JOHN DEWEY.

tion in terms of our own inner welfare, — but aside from this
distinction of values within a concrete whole, through reflec-
tion upon it, I can see nothing.

If, then, I may paraphrase Mr. James' phraseology, the
statement would read as follows : Our customary analysis,
reading over into the experience itself what we find by in-
terpreting it,1 says we have an idea of the bear as something
to be escaped, and so run away. The hypothesis here pro-
pounded is that the factors of a coordination (whether due
to inherited instinct or to individually acquired habit) begin
to operate and we run away ; running away, we get the idea
of < running-away-from-bear ', or of ' bear-as-thing-to-be-run-
from.' I suppose every one would admit that the complete,
mature idea came only in and through the act of running, but
might hold that an embryonic suggestion of running came
before the running. I cannot disprove this position, but
everything seems to point the other way. It is more natural
to suppose that as the full idea of running away comes in
from the full execution, so the vague suggestion comes
through the vague starting-up-of the system, mediated by
discharge from the centres.

The idea of running away must certainly involve, as part
of its content, an excitation of the * motor-centres ' actually
concerned in running ; it would seem as if this excitation
must involve some, however slight, innervation of the
peripheral apparatus involved in the act.2 What ground is
there for supposing that the idea comes to consciousness save
through the sensorial return of this peripheral excitation?
Is there any conceivable statement, either in terms of intro-
spection or of nervous structure, of an idea of movement
coming to consciousness absolutely unmediated peripher-
ally? Sensorial consciousness, mediated by the incoming

1 This is simply circumlocution for ' common-sense.' Common-sense is practical,
and when we are practical it is the value of our experience, what we can get out of it
or think we can, that appeals to us. The last thing that concerns us is the actual pro-
cess of experiencing, qua process. It might almost be said that the sole difficulty in
psychology, upon the introspective side, is to avoid this substitution of a practical in-
terpretation of an experience for the experience itself.

* I do not mean that this innervation com.es to consciousness as such ; on the con-
trary.

THE THEORY OF EMOTION. 2$

current, is an undoubted fact ; it is vera causa. Putting the
two hypotheses side by side simply as hypotheses, surely the
logical advantage of economy and of appeal to vera causa is on
the side of the theory which conceives the idea of movement
in terms of a return of discharge wave, and against that
which would make it a purely central affair.1

But this is far from being all. I suppose one is fairly
entitled now to start from the assumption of a sensory-con-
tinuum, the « big, buzzing, blooming confusion/ out of which
particular sensory quales are differentiated. Discrimination,
not integration, is the real problem. In a general way we
all admit that it is through attention that the distinctions
arise, through selective emphasis. Now we may not only
rely upon the growing feeling that attention is somehow
bound up with motor adjustment and reaction, but we can
point to the specific facts of sensorial discrimination which
show, that, as a matter of fact, the range and fineness of dis-
crimination run parallel to the apparatus for motor adjust-
ments. We can also show that, in the only case in which
there has, as yet, been a serious attempt to work out the de-
tails of discrimination, namely, space distinctions, all hands
agree that they come through motor adjustments — ^the ques-
tion whether * muscular ' or joint surface sensations are pri-
mary, having here no importance. Such being the case,
how can the particular stimulus which excites the discharge
be defined as this or that object apart from our reaction to
it? I do not care to go into the metaphysics of objective
qualities, but dealing simply with the psychological recog-
nition of such qualities, what basis or standard for qualita-
tive definiteness can we have, save the consciousness of dif-
ferences in our own organic response? The bear may be a

1 There are further logical grounds for expecting acquiescence from those who ac-
cept the general standpoint of Mr. James. To say nothing of the insistence upon con-
sciousness as essentially reactive or motor, ' idea ' and emotional seizure hang together.
Fear-of-bear, bear-as-fearful-object cannot be separated. Besides, when I introspect
for my ' fringe ' in the stream of thought I always find its particular sensorial basis in
shiftings of directions and quantity of breath, and other slight adjustments, just as cer-
tainly as I always can pick out the sensorial basis for my emotional seizures. A priori,
it is difficult to see what the ' fringe ' can be save the feeling of the running accompa-
niment of aborted acts, having their value now only as signs or cues, but originally
complete in themselves.

24 JOHN DEWEY.

thousand times an individual entity or distinct object meta-
physically, if you please ; you may even suppose, if you will,
that the particular wave-lengths which deflect from the bear,
somehow sort themselves out from the wave-lengths coming
from all the rest of the environment, and come to the brain
as a distinct bundle or package by themselves — but the rec-
ognition of just this object out of the multitude of possible
objects, of just this bundle of vibrations out of all the other
bundles, still remains to be accounted for. The predominat-
ing motor response supplies the conditions for its objectifi-
cation, or selection. There is no competing hypothesis of
any other machinery even in the field.

We return, then, confirmed, to our belief that the mode
of behavior, or coordination of activities, constitutes the
ideal content of emotion just as much as it does the Affect or
'feel', and that the distinction of these two is not given in
the experience itself, but simply in reflection upon the expe-
rience. The mode of action constituted by the organic co-
ordination of certain sensori-motor (or ideo-motor) activities,
on one side, and of certain vegetative-motor activities on the
other, is the reality, and this reality has a value, which,
when interpreted, we call intellectual, and a value which,
when interpreted we call Affect, or 'feel'. In the terms of
our illustration, the mode of behavior carried with it the
concept of the bear as a thing to be acted towards in a cer-
tain way, and of the < feel ' of our reaction. It is brown and
chained — a < beautiful ' object to be looked at. It is soft and
fluffy — an ' aesthetic ' object to be felt of. It is tame and
clumsy — an 'amusing' object to while away time with. It
is hungry and angry — and is a « ferocious ' object to be fled.
The consciousness of our mode of behavior as affording data
for other possible actions constitutes the bear an objective or
ideal content. The consciousness of the mode of behavior

as something in itself — the looking, petting, running, etc.

constitutes the emotional seizure. In all concrete experience
of emotion these two phases are organically united in a
single pulse of consciousness.

It follows from this that all emotion, as excitation, in-
volves inhibition. This is not absolute inhibition ; it is not

THE THEORY OF EMOTION. 2$

suppression or displacement. It is incidental to the coordi-
nation. The two factors of the coordination, the ' exciting
stimulus ' and the excited response, have to be adjusted, and
the period of adjustment required to affect the coordination,
marks the inhibition of each required to effect its reconstruc-
tion as an integral part of the whole act. Or, since we have
recognized that the exciting stimulus does not exist as fact,
or object, until constituted such by the coordination in the
final act, let us say that the activities needing adjustment, and
so partial inhibition, are the kinaesthetic (sensori-motor or
ideo-motor) activities which translate themselves into the
'object', and the vegetative-motor activities which consti-
tute the ' reaction ' or < response ' to the * object '.

But here, again, in order to avoid getting on the wrong
track it must be noted that this distinction of ' object ' and
' response ' is one of interpretation, or value, and not a plain
matter of course difference in the experiencing. I have
already tried to show that the ' object ' itself is an organic
excitation on the sensori-motor, or, mediately, ideo-motor
side, and that it is not the peculiar object of the emotion un-
til the mode of behavior sets in, and the diffusive wave re-
percussates in consciousness. But it is equally necessary to
recognize that the very distinction between exciting or stim-
ulating sensori-motor activity and excited or responding
vegetative-motor activity is teleological and not merely fact-
ual. It is because these two activities have to be coordin-
ated in a single act, to accomplish a single end, and have
therefore to be so adjusted as to cooperate with each other,
that they present themselves as stimulus and response.
When we consider one activity, say the sensori-ideo-motor
activity, which constructs or constitutes the bear as an « ob-
ject', not in itself, but from the standpoint of the final act
into which it merges — the stopping to took at the bear and
study it scientifically, or enjoy its clumsy movements — that
activity takes the form of stimulus. So the vegetative-motor
activity, which is, in itself as direct experience, simply the
intrinsic organic continuation of the sensori-motor activity,
being interpreted again as a reduced factor of, or contribu-
tion to, the final outcome, assumes the form of response.

26 JOHN DEWEY.

But, I repeat, this distinction of stimulus and response is one
of interpretation, and of interpretation from the standpoint
of the value of some act considered as an accomplished end.

The positive truth is that the prior and the succeeding
parts of an activity are in operation together ; that the prior
activity beside passing over into the succeeding also persists
by itself, and yet that the necessary act cannot be performed
until these two activities reinforce each other, or become
contributing factors to a unified deed. The period of max-
imum emotional seizure corresponds to this period of adjust-
ment. If we look at the deflection or reconstruction which
either side undergoes during this adjustment, we shall call
it inhibition — it is arrest of discharge which the activity
would perform, if existing by itself. If we look at the final
outcome, the completed adjustment, we have coordination.

I think it must be obvious that this account in no way
runs athwart Mr. James* denial of inhibition as a necessary
phase of the Affect (Psychology, Vol. II., p. 476, note). He
there speaks of inhibition as if it could mean only complete
suppression — which is no inhibition at all, psychologically,
since with suppression or displacement, all tension vanishes.
It is, indeed, a question of primary impulsive tendencies, but
of these tendencies as conflicting with one another and there-
fore mutually checking, at least temporarily, one another.
Acts, which in past times, have been complete activities, now
present themselves as contemporaneous phases of one activity.
In so far as they were once each complete in itself, there is
struggle of each to absorb or negate the other. This must
either occur or else there is a readjustment and a new whole,
or coordination, appears, they now being contributory fac-
tors. The inhibition once worked out, whether by displace-
ment of one or by reconstruction of both contending factors,
the Affect dies out.

This sort of inhibition the James theory not only permits,
but demands — otherwise the whole relation between the ex-
citing stimulus and the instinctive response, which is the
nerve of the theory, disappears. If the exciting stimulus
does not persist over into the excited response, we get sim-
ply a case of habit. The familiar fact that emotion as excite-

THE THEORY OF EMOTION. 2/

ment disappears with definiteness of habit simply means that
in so far as one activity serves simply as means, or cue, to
another and gives way at once to it, there is no basis for
conflict and for inhibition. But if the stimulating and the
induced activities need to be coordinated together, if they
are both means contributing to one and the same end, then
the conditions for mere habit are denied, and some struggle,
with incidental inhibitory deflection of the immediate activ-
ity, sets in. In psychological terms, this tension is always
between the activity which constitutes, when interpreted,
the object as an intellectual content, and that which consti-
tutes the response or mode of dealing with it. There is the
one phase of organic activity which constitutes the bear as
object; there is the other which would attack it, or run
away from it, or stand one's ground before it. If these
two coordinate without friction, or if one immediately dis-
places the other, there is no emotional seizure. If they co-
exist, both pulling apart as complete in themselves and pull-
ing together as parts of a new whole, there is great emo-
tional excitement.1 It is this tension which makes it impos-
sible to describe any emotion whatever without using dual
terms — one for the Affect itself, the other for the object ' at ',
* towards,' or « on account of,' which it is.

We may now connect this analysis with the result of the
consideration of the emotional attitudes. The attitude is
precisely that which was a complete activity once, but is no
longer so. The activity of seizing prey or attacking an
enemy, a movement having its meaning in itself, is now re-
duced or aborted ; it is an attitude simply. As an instinctive
reaction it is thoroughly ingrained in the system ; it repre-
sents the actual coordinations of thousands and thousands of

1 See James, II., 496-497. But more particularly I should apply to the difference
between relatively indifferent and emotionally excited consciousness precisely what
James says of the difference between habitual and reasoned thinking. (II., p. 366.)
" In the former, an entire system of cells vibrating at any one moment discharges in
its totality into another system, the order of the discharges tends to be a constant one
in time ; whilst in the latter a part of the prior system still keeps vibrating in the midst
of the subsequent system, and the order . . . has little tendency to fixedness in time."
Add to this that it is necessary to perform a unified act — or reconstitute a single, com-
prehensive system, and the reality (though strictly incidental character) of inhibition
appears.

28 JOHN DEWEY,

ancestors; it tends to start into action, therefore, whenever
its associated stimulus occurs. But the very fact that it is
now reduced to an attitude or tendency, the very fact that
it is now relatively easy to learn to control the instinctive
blind reaction when we are stimulated in a certain way,
shows that the primary activity is inhibited ; it no longer
exists as a whole by itself, but simply as a coordinated
phase, or a contributory means, in a larger activity. There
is no reason to suppose that the original activity of attack
or seizure was emotional, or had any quale attached to it
such as we now term 'anger'. The animal or our ances-
tor so far as it was given up without restraint to the full
activity undoubtedly had a feeling of activity ; but just be-
cause the activity was undivided, it was not ' emotion ' ; it
was not « at ', or < towards ' an object held in tension against
itself. This division could come in only when there was a
need of coordinating the activity which corresponded to the
perception and that which corresponded to the fighting, as
means to an activity which was neither perceiving nor fight-
ing. The animal growling and lashing its tail as it waits to
fight may have an emotional consciousness, but even here,
there may be, for all we know, simply a unified conscious-
ness, a complete concentration on the act of maintaining that
posture, the act of waiting being the adequate response to
the given stimulus. Certainly,1 so far as I can trust my own
introspection, whenever my anger or any strong emotion has

1 1 have no intention here of constructing, a priori, the animal consciousness. I use
this merely as hypothetical illustration ; (/"unification of activity, then no emotion ; if
emotion, then tension of intellectual recognition on one side and consideration of how
to behave towards object recognized on the other. I must add, however, that such in-
terpretations as Darwin's umbrella case (in his Descent of Man), as illustrating a rude
sense of the supernatural, seem to me most unwarrantably anthropomorphic. Surely,
the only straightforward interpretation is, there was interruption of a reaction which had
started to discharge, and that such a change in stimulus suddenly set up another dis-
charge totally at cross-purposes with the first, thus disintegrating the animal's coordina-
tions for a moment. Unless the animal recognizes or objectifies the familiar reaction,
and recognizes also the unexpected reaction in such a way that there tension arises
between the two, there can be no emotion in the animal, but simply a shock of inter-
rupted activity — the sort of fit which James speaks of, Vol. II, 420. It may well be
that the feeling cf the supernatural in man, however, is precisely the feeling of such
tension— instead of there being an idea of the supernatural, and then an associated
feeling of terror towards it.

THE THEORY OF EMOTION. 2$

gained complete possession of me, the peculiar Affect quale
has disappeared. I remember well a youthful fight, with the
emotions of irritation and anger before, and of partial fear
and partial pride afterwards, but as to the intervening period
of the fight nothing but a strangely vivid perception of the
other boy's face as the hypnotizing focus of all my muscular
activities. On the other side, my most intense and vengeful
feelings of anger are associated with cases where my whole
body was so sat on as to prevent the normal reaction. Every
one knows how the smart and burn of the feeling of injustice
increases with the feeling of impotency ; it is, for example,
when strikes are beginning to fail that violence from anger
or revenge, as distinct from sheer criminality, sets in. It is
a common-place that the busy philanthropist has no occasion
to feel the extreme emotion of pathos which the spectator or
reader of literature feels. Cases might be multiplied ad lib-
itum.

It is then in the reduction of activities once performed for
their own sake, to attitudes now useful simply as supplying
a contributory, a reinforcing or checking factor, in some
more comprehensive activity, that we have all the conditions
for high emotional disturbance. The tendency to large dif-
fusive waves of discharge is present, and the inhibition of
this outgoing activity through some perception or idea is
also present. The need of somehow reaching an adjustment
of these two sides is urgent. The attitude stands for a re-
capitulation of thousands of acts formerly done, ends formerly
reached ; the perception or idea stands for multitudes of acts
which may be done, ends which may be acted upon. But
the immediate and present need is to get this attitude of
anger which reflects the former act of seizing into some con-
nection with the act of getting-even or of moral control, or
whatever the idea may be. The conflict and competition,
with incidental inhibition and deflection, is the disturbance
of the emotional seizure.

Upon this basis, the apparent strangeness or absurdity in
the fact that a mere organic repercussation should have such
tremendous values in consciousness disappears. This organic
return of the discharge wave stands for the entire effort of

30 JOHN DEWEY.

the organism to adjust its formed habits or coordinations of
the past to present necessities as made known in perception
or idea. The emotion is, psychologically, the adjustment or
tension of habit and ideal, and the organic changes in the body
are the literal working out, in concrete terms, of the struggle
of adjustment. We may recall once more the three main
phases presented in this adjustment as now giving us the
basis of the classification of the emotions. There may be a
failure to adjust the vegetative-motor function, the habit, to
the sensori-(or ideo-) motor ; there may be the effort, or there
may be the success. The effort, moreover, also has a double
form according as the attempt is in the main so to use the
formed reactions as to avoid or exclude the idea or object,
setting up another in its place, or to incorporate and assimi-
late it — e. g., terror and anger, dread and hope, regret and
complacency, etc.1

I shall not carry out this classification ; but further sug-
gest that, in my judgment, we now have the means for dis-
criminating emotion as Gefuhlston, as emotional disturbance,
or Affect (with which we have been dealing so far) and as
interest.

Interest is the feeling which arises with the completed
coordination. Let the tension solve itself by successive dis-
placements in time, i. e., means assuming a purely serial form
in which one stimulates the next, and we get the indifference
of routine. But let the various means succeed in organizing
themselves into a simultaneous comprehensive whole of ac-
tion, and we have interest. All interest, qua interest, it
would follow from this, is qualitatively alike, being differen-
tiated simply by the idea to which it attaches. And expe-

1 Because of the tension, however, these cannot be set over against each other
absolutely. All terror, till it passes into pathological fright, involves anger, and anger
some fear, etc. All moral experience is only too full of the subtle and deceiving ways
in which regret (condemnation) and complacency (self -approbation) run into each other.
There is the Pharisee who can maintain his sense of his own goodness only by tension
with his thought of evil; or who can make his depth of remorse material for self-
gratulation. And there is the sentimental selfish character which disguises its own
disgrace from itself by emotional recognitions of the beauty of goodness, and of its own
misfortunes in not being able, in the past, to satisfy this ideal. I have never known
other such touching tributes to goodness as can proceed from the sentimental egoist,
when he gets into ' trouble,' as he euphemistically terms it.

THE THEOR Y OF EMOTION. 3 I

rience seems to verify this inference. Interest is undisturbed
action, absorbing action, unified action, and all interests, as
interests, are equally interesting. The collection of postage
stamps is as absorbing, if it is absorbing or an interest, as
the discovery of double-stars; and the figuring of indefinite
columns of statistics as the discovery of the nature of sym-
pathy. Nor is this a pathological principle, as it might seem
to be were we to instance merely fads or hobbies. The mul-
tiplicity of deeds which demand doing in this world is too
great to be numbered ; that principle which secures that if
only full or organic activity go into each end, each act
shall equally satisfy in its time and place, is the highest
ethical principle ; it is the statement of the only religious
emotional experience which really seems worth while — the
sense of the validity of all necessary doing. I cannot dwell
upon this matter of interest, but I suggest the case of purely
scientific interest as crucial. On one side, it seems wholly
unemotional, so free from all disturbance or excitation may
it become ; on the other, it represents a culmination of absorp-
tion, of concentrated attention. How this apparent paradox
is to be dealt with save on the supposition that emotion (as
Affect) is the feeling of tension in action, while interest is the
feeling of a complex of relevant activity unified in a single
channel of discharge, I do not see.

As for the Gefuhlston, I shall only state the conclusion
that would seem to follow from a thorough-going application
of the principle already laid down. I do not know that this
complete application is advisable, much less necessary, but I
share somewhat in the feeling of Mr. Baldwin as expressed
in the Nov. number (p. 6 17) of this REVIEW, that there is a pre-
sumption that a unitary principle holds all the way through.1
At all events, those who have followed me so far may like
to see how the hypothesis already propounded might con-
ceivably apply to the case of, say, delight in certain tones,

1 It hardly seems fair, though, to charge Mr. James with inconsistency because he
declines to force his theory beyond the limits of the facts upon which he feels himself
to have a sure hold. Surely we may admire this reserve, even if we cannot imitate it,
instead of virtually accusing him of giving away his whole case by admitting, hypothet-
ically, the existence of facts whose explanation would require an opposite principle.

32 JOHN DEWEY.

colors or tastes, while those who do not accept the hypothesis
will hardly be shocked at one absurdity the more.

The suggestion, then, is that the Gefiihlston represents
the complete consolidation of a large number of achieved
ends into the organic habit or coordination. It is interest
read backwards. That represents the complete identifica-
tion of the habits with a certain end or aim. The tone of
sense-feeling represents the reaction, the incorporate identi-
fication, of the successful ends into the working habit. It is
not, as I have hitherto indicated, habit as habit which be-
comes feelingless ; it is only the habit which serves as mere
means, or serial stimulus. That a given coordination should
assume into itself the value of all associated coordinations is
a fact of every day experience. Our eye-consciousness takes
up into itself the value of countless motor and touch experi-
ences ; our ear takes up the value of motor and visual expe-
riences, &c. There is no apparent reason why this vicarious
assumption should not become so organically registered —
pace Weissman — as to become hereditary ; and become more
and more functionally incorporated into structure.

To sum up: — Certain movements, formerly useful in
themselves, become reduced to tendencies to action, to atti-
tudes. As such they serve, when instinctively aroused into
action, as means for realizing ends. But so far as there is
difficulty in adjusting the organic activity represented by
the attitude with that which stands for the idea or end, there
is temporary struggle and partial inhibition. This is reported
as Affect, or emotional seizure. Let the coordination be
effected in one act, instead of in a successive series of mutu-
ally exclusive stimuli, and we have interest. Let such coor-
dinations become thoroughly habitual and hereditary, and
we have Gefiihlston.

THE MUSCULAR SENSE AND ITS LOCATION IN
THE BRAIN CORTEX.

BY PROFESSOR M. ALLEN STARR,

College of Physicians and Surgeons, New York.

It is not necessary to present to the readers of this jour-
nal any lengthy discussion in regard to the muscular sense.
Every psychologist admits that there is a sense of movement
which enables us to appreciate, (i) the position of a limb in
space ; (2) the degree and force of muscular action necessary
to change the position of that limb ; (3) the power needed to
oppose varying resistances to the motion of that limb. It
has been thought by some that the muscular sense was mate-
rially aided by the tactile sense in the process of accurate
guiding and adjustment ; it has been held by others that the
muscular sense was wholly independent of the other senses
and the fact here recorded supports this latter view. It has
been held by some, that the centres of perception of the mus-
cular sense in the cortex were identical with the centres of
movement in the cortex; it has been held by others, that
these centres were separate from one another; and the fact
here recorded, supports this latter view.

It is well known that disturbance in muscular sense may
be produced by diseases in various parts of the nervous sys-
tem. Thus we have ataxia or incoordination of movement,
not depending upon paralysis of the muscles, but entirely due
to a lack of appreciation of muscular sense impressions, from
(i) diseases of the peripheral nerves; (2) diseases of the pos-
terior columns of the spinal cord, as shown in locomotor
ataxia; (3) diseases of the lemniscus or its radiation in the
internal capsule in its course toward the cortex around the
Rolandic fissure ; (4) general diffuse diseases of the cortex of
the brain, such as general paresis. It is evident therefore,

33

34 M. ALLEN STARR.

that any defect in the tract conveying muscular sense from
the muscles to the brain cortex, will produce a disturbance
in the power of coordination.

Hitherto, facts have been wanting to determine the actual
position of the termination of this tract in the cortex and the
exact location of the muscular sense centres. The following
observation, therefore, is one of considerable value, inasmuch
as it illustrates the possibility of producing an entire loss of
muscular sense by a limited destruction of the brain cor-
tex, without producing at the same time, any disturbance in
motor power or in tactile sensibility ; and determines the
localization of the muscular sense centre for the hand in the
parietal region.

The case presents a set of facts quite analogous to those
obtained in a physiological experiment and is one of consid-
erable interest.

A young man was brought to the Presbyterian Hospital,
suffering from intense headache, to the left of, and somewhat
behind the vertex, and from epilepsy. He had been a healthy
boy until his fifth year, when he had a severe fall on his
head, which was followed by unconsciousness for several
hours. Since that time he had never completely gained his
mental balance. He had seemed fairly bright at his lessons,
and willing to study, but was very easily agitated and accus-
tomed to give way to emotional excitement or passion ; his
memory was good, but his powers of application somewhat
deficient. When he was sixteen years old, he had another
fall on his head followed by unconsciousness, and from that
time his symptoms were all increased. The headache was
very intense, quite constant, and subject to sudden periods
of increase. When the pain increased exceedingly, the boy
would develop a maniacal condition, in which his actions
were extravagant, his speech abusive and profane, and in
which he resorted to acts of violence toward his family and
employers. These attacks occurred every few days, unless
reduced in frequency by the use of bromide of potash ; but
in spite of treatment, would occur every three or four weeks.
After the attack was over, he had no recollection of what
had occurred during it, and on several occasions, he lost con-

MUSCULAR SENSE, ITS LOCA TION IN THE BRAIN COR TEX. 3$

sciousness during the attack and slept heavily after it; he
never had any convulsions. This condition had been present
for five years, when he came to the hospital. It was thought
that the attacks were of the nature of epilepsy, being of the
variety known as the epileptic psychical equivalent, in which
condition a sudden attack of mental aberration takes the
place of a convulsion, and though the patient is apparently
conscious, he subsequently has no recollection whatever of
his acts during an attack. The fact that these attacks
had developed after a fall on the head, and that he suffered
constantly from severe pain at the seat of the injury, led
to an attempt to relieve the condition by opening the
skull. Dr. McCosh, Surgeon to the Presbyterian Hos-
pital, trephined him and found, upon exposing the brain,
a small vascular tumor lying beneath the point of injury,
directly upon the brain surface. The size of this vas-
cular tumor was about ^ of an inch in diameter. It was
removed without producing any injury to the surface of
the brain, so far as could be determined. The brain was ex-
plored by thrusting a needle into it in three directions, in
view of the possibility of finding a small collection of fluid
beneath the surface ; but nothing was found. The boy recov-
ered from the operation rapidly, so that within ten days he
was quite well ; but immediately after the operation it was
found that he had lost his muscular sense in the right hand
and arm, below the elbow. Attention was called to the fact
by the peculiar awkwardness in the movement of hand and
arm. Any attempt to grasp a pencil or glass of water or to
pick up a pin, resulted in most excessive motions of an irreg-
ular type, without the possibility of carrying out the desired
movement, even when guided by sight. The attempt to
place his finger upon his nose with his eyes closed, failed;
the finger being carried beyond the side of the head and above
it; in fact all voluntary guidance of the hand was imperfect.
At the same time his strength was as good as ever, his grip
was greater in the right hand than in the left, so that the
defect of movement was in no way due to an actual loss of
power. When his eyes were closed he was absolutely unable
to tell what position had been given to his fingers or hand

36 M, ALLEN STARR,

by the examiner; he did not know whether his hand was
open or closed ; when his hand and fingers were placed in a
position and he was requested to put the other hand in the
same position, his eyes being shut, he was totally unable to
do so ; he was unable to estimate with any degree of accur-
acy, substances different in weight in the right hand, though
able to detect the differences readily with the left hand. It
was evident that his awkwardness of movement was largely
due to the inability to adjust his motions with the necessary
degree of power. At the same time his tactile sense and
sensation of temperature and pain were perfectly normal.
There was no disturbance of any kind in the face or leg.
This condition began to pass off about three weeks after the
operation, and at the end of three months, he had recovered
his muscular sense entirely. It was therefore evident, that
t-his particular effect had been produced by a small localized
injury of the cortex of the brain, which had been subsequently
repaired by nature. The exact position of the cortex injured
was easily determined, and it was found to be about two
inches behind the fissure of Rolando and about an inch and a
half to the left of the median line, at about the junction of
the superior and inferior parietal lobules. This observation
would therefore indicate : first, that the muscular sense cen-
tres are distinct in their location from tactile or pain or tem-
perature sense centres; and also from the motor centres;
secondly, that they are situated just behind the motor area
in the parietal region of the brain.

A LOCATION REACTION APPARATUS.

BY PROFESSOR G. W. FITZ,

Lawrence Scientific School, Harvard University.

The problem which stimulated to the designing of this
apparatus was that of testing the power of an individual to
quickly and accurately touch an object suddenly disclosed to
him in an unexpected position. In order to make the prob-
lem as simple as possible the apparatus (see Figure i)
was so devised that the subject is required to make a
movement of the finger from the end of the nose to some
portion of the arc of a circle of which he is the centre and
whose plane is at the level of his elbow. Three positions
were selected to give a wide range of movement, namely,
the centre immediately in front and a point on each side at a
distance of about 14 in. (A, B and C). The object to be touched
consists of a white spot ^ in. in diameter, which may be
placed at any one of these points without the knowledge of
the subject, a screen being in front, arranged to fall at the
proper time and instantly disclose the spot. In connection
with this, a pendulum chronoscope is used which measures
the interval of time between the falling of the screen and the
touching of the white spot.

The apparatus for determining the error is constructed to
measure the distance of the centre of the finger (Fig. 2, F)
from the centre of the white spot (S) on either side, thus
showing the error of the movement executed and its direc-
tion. It consists of a horizontal strip (St) of blackened brass
7 in. long, bearing in its centre the white spot (S). This is
hinged along one side so that the finger pressure makes an
electrical contact (E) to determine the end of the time inter-
val and also releases the clamp controlling the error record-
ing apparatus. Below this are two light arms (GG) pivoted

37

G. W. FITZ.

at a common point directly under the white spot, so that
their tips project above the first strip about ^ in. These
arms are connected by a spring (Sp) tending to pull them to-
gether, but are held apart in the preliminary position by the

FIG. i. — LOCATION APPARATUS.

pressure of the clamp projecting downward from strip (St,
not shown in diagram) and are released by the touch of the
subject, springing instantly to grasp the finger (F) between
them. The raising of the finger clamps them anew in this
position, and the displacement of the index showing the mid
point of the finger can be read on its scale (R-L). This is
found to work very quickly and conveniently with practi-
cally no observation error. A frame work carries the
various parts and a set of wheels enables it to be run into any
position desired.

The chronoscope has a balanced pendulum (Fig. 3), 12
inches total length, so weighted (W) that the time of swing
is about a second and a half. The pendulum (P) carries a

FIG. 2. — ERROR INDEX.

light index (I) that may be clamped instantly in any position
on the scale (S), which latter was graduated empirically in
hundredths of a second by a falling weight. The pendulum

A LOG A TION REACTION APPARA TVS.

is held in the preparatory position (Fig. 4) by means of a hook
{H) connected with the armature (A) of an electromagnet

w

FIG. 3. — PENDULUM CHRONOSCOPE.

{M). The breaking of the circuit by the fall of the screen
releases (Fig. 5, R) the pendulum carrying its index; the re-

FIG. 4. — PENDULUM AND INDEX
CLAMP RELEASE.

FIG. 5. — CLAMP RELEASE.

making of the circuit, by the touch of the subject's finger,
releases (Fig. 5, R) the clamp (C) and catches the index so that

G. W. FITZ.

the time may be read upon the scale (Fig. 3, S). There is a
level (L) upon the base board to enable one to put it in an
exactly horizontal position, and the error of the instrument
is thereby reduced to a negligible quantity. The details of
the release are shown in Figures 4 and 5.

By means of this apparatus it was hoped to measure some
of the elements making up the differences which exist be-
tween individuals in their power to do certain things requir-
ing quickness and accuracy, as, for instance, tennis playing
and fencing, the essential requirements being the perception
and quick interpretation of external conditions, followed in-
stantly by an appropriate motor response. The apparatus
gives us somewhat similar conditions to those offered by the
games mentioned, but gives them so definitely that it is pos-
sible to get a numerical statement of what each individual is
able to do in terms of quickness and accuracy. The differ-
ences have been found to be remarkably great, and there is
an apparent lack of coordination between time and error;
that is, those who are quick are not necessarily less accurate
than those who are slower.

The accompanying table shows the result of some work
with the apparatus, and is given to suggest the wide range
of individual ability thus tested.

Males.

Females.

Time in

% of

Av.

% of

Av.

Tta sec-

No.

total.

error.

No.

total.

error.

27- 35

ii

6.2

ii. i

i

1-5

10.

35- 45

48

22.5

10.05

12

18.

9.4

45- 55

54

3i.

8.25

18

26.

7.8

55- 65

29

17.

9-

25

35-

7.2

65- 75

18

u.

8.2

II

16.

5-4

75- 85

8

5-

3-1

4

5-

4.4

85- 95

4

2.

4.05

0

95-105

0

0.

o

I

105-115

i

.6

7.8

The tests were made in three positions (A, B, C, in the
order i, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6), as described, every individual making

A LOG A TION RE A C TION A PPA RA TUS. 4 1

four attempts in each position, twelve all told. These were
recorded separately, hence it is possible to study each effort
in relation to the position in which it was made. This was
done for both hands to compare the right with the left in
regard to quickness, accuracy and direction of error; but it
has been thought best not to include a discussion of the
results from this standpoint in the present paper.

The table contains a study of the observations made with
the right, or preferred, hand by 173 males and 72 females,
all those of one individual being treated here as if made in
one position. They were obtained from several sources, a
large portion of them being derived from the Psychological
Laboratory of the Columbian Exposition, Chicago, where
the apparatus was in use by Prof. Jastrow, and also from
Harvard students and in the Harvard Summer School of
Physical Training. Inasmuch as it did not seem possible to
make a fair classification of these, they have been arranged
in two divisions, male and female, regardless of ages and
experiences.

The first column of the table gives the limits of quickness,
determining each group of these two classes : the second, in
the two divisions of the table, gives the number of individu-
als whose reactions lie between the limits noted : the third
gives the percentage of this number to the total number in
the class, while the fourth gives the average error which is
a measure of the accuracy of the movements. It will be
noticed that the number of individuals of the different groups
shows a distinct distribution curve with the apex at about
0.5 Sec. in the males and 0.6 Sec. in the females, suggesting
that these are near the means. Of course, this quickness is
made up of the reaction — time proper and the time occupied
in making the movement from the end of the nose to the
plane of the apparatus. It will be noticed also that the aver-
age errors for these groups do not vary in ratio to the
quickness, but that those who make the movement in .35 Sec.
are almost as accurate as the group making the movement in
.75 Sec., some being, indeed, more accurate in the former
case than in the latter. There is a suggestion of uniformity
in the value of the errors, and one cannot help thinking that

42 G. W. FITZ.

the everyday, haphazard activity, demanding as it does a
certain degree of accuracy in the execution of movements,
determines for each individual his range of error, and that
time is the main element of variation.

It will be noted that though the time of the females is
longer than that of the males, there is a compensatory in-
crease in accuracy. The relation between time and accuracy
has not been determined, so it is not possible to make a state-
ment of the value of accuracy in terms of time, but un-
doubtedly the individual, who is fairly accurate and very
quick, is more accurate when he takes more time, yet it is
also true that he is sometimes much more accurate than at
others without being necessarily either quicker or slower.
These individual variations have still to be studied. The
main point to be emphasized now is, that between two per-
sons it is practically possible to bring one element of the test,
either time or accuracy, to equality, so that the difference
may be expressed numerically in terms of the other. Just
what value this series of tests has can not be stated posi-
tively, but we believe it has distinct reference to motor abil-
ity, and that this will be shown by an increased number of
observations upon individuals whose powers are definitely
known by comparison with others in the various games.

I wish to acknowledge special indebtedness to Prof. Joseph
Jastrow, Mr. G. W. Morehouse, Dr. F. B. Jewett and Mr.
A. W. Jeardeau for assistance in getting observations.

DISCUSSION.

MIND AND BODY.

The question of the relation of mind and body is one from which the
practiced reader shrinks as from a foreseen and profitless logomachy.
It is, so to speak, a game of chess, in which the weary on-looker an-
ticipates every familiar opening and every vain movement to the mo-
ment when the infinite baffler of our finite thought mockingly cries
'mate.' The deep-seated intellectual desire for unity and the impos-
sibility of comprehending causal interaction between two disparate
substances, drive us to the affirmation of a Spinozistic psycho-physical
parallelism. Two courses then lie open to us. Common sense and
the dread of paradox lead us to limit this parallelism, and to affirm
that it obtains only in the nerve structures of the organic world. That
is, that every mental event has its physical counterpart, but that the
converse is not true. This view unflinchingly applied, together
with the principle of continuous causation, makes the physical world
the^n'us and the absolutely real, and reduces thought, feeling and
consciousness to phenomenal illusions, summis fluitantia rebus. It
is perhaps the dominant view as a psychological method at pres-
ent. But it is not really tenable as an ontological principle by any
serious thinker who knows his Berkeley, Kant and Schopenhauer.

The alternative is to make the parallelism absolute and assign a
mental and subjective or 'inner' side, not merely to the nerve sub-
stances of man and the higher animals, but to every atom of cosmic
dust. Mind thus becomes co-extensive with matter, and as the im-
mediately known reduces its physical counterpart to an illusion, an
inference, a presentation, an aspect or reflection of itself. But how
are we to conceive this mind or minds? Are the barriers and limits
imposed by matter as illusory, from the standpoint of the absolutely
real, as matter itself? And are all that we count separate minds
connected, related and fused in an infinite world-soul that manifests
itself in countless finite aspects? Or is our indefectible sense of
isolated individuality the mental counterpart of the lines of demark-
ation we find in the material world; and will eternal form continue
to divide the innumerable minds the theory postulates? And if so,

43

44 MIND AND BODY.

what and where are the essential units of mind and reality? Is the
unit the full consciousness of a mature man corresponding to the
healthy action of the entire nervous system ? Is it one of those split-
off consciousnesses of which French pathology has so suspicious a
monopoly ? Is it a single thought, supposing us to be able to analyze
out a single thought ? Is it the dim sentience of an amoeba ? Is it the
postulated inner aspect of a molecule or rather, since molecules are
compounds, of an atom? Evidently these questions throw us back
into the metaphysics of the Leibnitzian monad, and we are led to
speculate whether there may not be two kinds of spiritual unity, —
one corresponding to the mental atom, the other to the various ag-
gregations of such units under the control of a superior co-ordinating
monad. By this plan, we might return to a world-soul that would
yet leave us at least the illusion of a real finite existence. Specula-
tions of this sort, alluring and inevitable as they are to all who
dabble in metaphysics, do not touch the realities of our thought and
experience very nearly. But however fruitless they may seem, they
are at present inextricably involved with the methodology, the aims
and the conflicting tendencies of modern psychology. No psy-
chology in recent times is free from this sort of metaphysics, and
the writers who protest against it loudest are the most deeply in-
fected. Great interest attaches, therefore, to the review of the
entire question just published by the veteran Wundt.1 If we can not
look for final solutions even from him, we may expect light on the
darker places of his own voluminous works, suggestive criticisms of
present psychological tendencies, and a clear defining of the some-
what obscure issues between him and the young psychologists of the
school of Ziehen and Miinsterberg.

It is probable that only a few very patient readers have been
able to form a clear conception of what the controversy between
these two schools, if we may call them so, is about. The new psy-
chologists have all been directly or indirectly trained in the school
of Wundt, and the master himself has from time to time modified
the formal statement at least of his doctrines in concession to their
criticisms. They profess a perfunctory allegiance, which he regards
as hollow, to the results of Kantian criticism; and he disavows the
traces of supernaturalism or mysticism which they discover in his
theories of apperception, attention, and will. Both accept as funda-
mental the psycho-physical parallelism, the conservation of energy,
the indispensability of introspection, the utility of the experimental

1 Ueber psychische Causalitdt und das Princip des psychophysischen Paral-
lelismus. W. Wundt, P kilos. Stud., X., 1-124. 1894.

DISCUSSION. 45

method. Wundt denies that the psycho-physical parallelism involves
the existence of any physical counterpart of the successive creative
syntheses by which our thought is qualitatively elaborated out of the
elements that analysis detects, and he stigmatizes as materialistic
the psychology that fails to recognize this limitation on the study of
mind through matter. But Miinsterberg, while affirming that the
entire content of our consciousness is explicable by the association
of sensational elements in obedience to physical laws, expressly ex-
cepts from the possibility of such explanation the quality of con-
sciousness that attaches to this content. May it not be that by this
inexplicable quality of consciousness Miinsterberg is merely general-
izing what Wundt means by insisting that every mental synthesis
yields a quality that cannot be obtained from the sum of its elements,
and which is, therefore, inexplicable by any analysis or synthesis
stated in physical symbols? If this is the case, there is, after all, no
very serious philosophical difference between the two disputants.
Both accept the psycho-physical parallelism, both recognize our ina-
bility to bridge the gulf between the two series. But Miinsterberg,
content with a general recognition of these difficulties, would simplify
his psychological analysis by practically ignoring them, as does
Spencer, and treating the mere combinations of the elements ex-
pressed in physical symbols as an adequate explanation of all higher
states. Wundt, on the other hand, wishes us to recognize the irre-
ducible quality of mind at each stage of the synthetic process, by
which we rise from the simpler to the more complex mental states.

For the method and the language of psychology, however, the
difference is all important. Wundt's psychological descriptions and
analyses are couched in a literary language that makes its appeal
directly to our conscious experience. The words are chosen for
their power to recall vividly to the reader's mind the experience of
which he treats. To some extent, of course, all psychologists use
language in this way. But the tendency of the 'new,' the 'phys-
iological,'the 'materialistic* psychology is to employ in psych-
ological descriptions and analyses, language which has a merely
symbolic and algebraic value, expressions chosen not for their power
to reinstate the experience described, but for their convenience for
expressing the writer's view of its explanatory analysis. Which dia-
lect will the psychologist of the future use? If he is as clever as
Prof. James he will probably employ both languages, — the language
of vivid literary description to aid the reader in realizing the states
depicted, the language of symbol to lend plausibility and a halo of
science to the analysis.

46 MIND AND BOD Y.

But what is the real service of the symbol? In mathematical
physics we substitute abstract symbols for the sensible realities, be-
cause the symbol is adequate for our purposes. It enables us to
solve problems and to predict results. In other words, it represents
the true causal relations so far as they are accessible to human in-
telligence. Now, the employment of symbols and symbolical,
physiological language by the ' young psychologists ' is mainly due
to their instinctive desire to transfer to psychology the conception
of cause which mathematical physics has made the ideal of modern
science. Speaking of the schematic diagrams by which he illustrates
association, Prof. James says: "It is only as incorporated in the
brain that such a scheme can represent anything causal," and he
accordingly denies that similarity can be an ultimate law of associa-
tion on the ground that similar ideas do not co-exist in the mind in
the intervals of latency, but are mere dispositions of the brain. A
like feeling about psychic causality underlies his suggestions that psy-
chology is awaiting its Galileo or Lavoisier, whose advent may sur-
prise us any day. Our entire conception of the method and prosecu-
tion of psychological research will depend on our acceptance or rejec-
tion of this assimilation of physical to psychical causality. Owing
to the homogeneity of its symbols (which enables us to interpolate
imaginary links at pleasure,) physical causation tends to be con-
ceived as a continuous unbroken chain. It is not easy to conceive
of psychic causation in this way. Highly complex states succeed
each other in the mind with no apprehensible intermediate links,
and consciousness as a whole is suspended in sleep and disease. The
resort to the infinitesimal of the unconscious savors of Leibnitzian
metaphysics. It is easy, then, to see why the young psychologists
seek to base their psychologies on the physical conception of cause.
But we have still to ask, what is the justification of this procedure,
either from the point of view of ultimate metaphysics or of practical
psychologizing? If they seriously maintain that all causal efficacy
resides in brain states which have no psychic counterpart, then, de-
spite their professed allegiance to the critical philosophy, they are
making matter a 'Ding an sich.' If they accept consciousness
in toto, as a reality for which no physical conditions can account, or
if they admit anywhere a mental spontaneity, which can select
among the ideas which the associative machinery introduces, they
have abandoned the unflinching mechanical explanation of the uni-
verse, as completely as if they granted us a soul, possessing the
faculty of retaining latent ideas and associating them by similarity.
If it is impossible to carry the mechanical explanation through, how

DISCUSSION. 47

can they define a priori the powers and potencies of the irreducible
spiritual factor whose presence in the problem is so grudgingly con-
ceded? It will perhaps be said that this is unprofitable metaphysics,
and that in practice the ' soul ' has shown itself a perfectly barren
and useless psychological conception, while brain processes and
schematic diagrams have been found to be fruitful working hypothe-
ses. What then is the real outcome, either for knowledge of the
mind or for scientific anatomy of the hypothetical brain schemes that
adorn the pages of the new psychology? Such are some of the chief
problems suggested by Wundt's study, of which, after these intro-
ductory reflections, I proceed to give a brief summary.

Viewed in the light of the psychological origin of the conception,
a cause is a thing that produces an effect on another thing. When
primitive thought has occasion to distinguish cause and condition,
it regards the thing as the cause proper and its varying aspects and
relations as the conditions of its operation. More exact and abstract
thought comes to recognize that there is always some special rela-
tion, quality or change of the thing that determines its effect on
another thing, and thus arises a tendency to fix the attention on this
determining relation or aspect as the cause proper, and to regard
things with their complexes of qualities and relations as the con-
ditions. Now in fixing the meaning of a term like cause, we may
endeavor to make our definition include its psychological origin and
popular acceptation, or we may intentionally modify the conception
so as to make it a more convenient instrument of thought. In deal-
ing with the idea of cause we must follow the latter course. We
must modify the original conception in accordance with the needs of
modern science. To attain command over nature and the power of
prediction, science must possess a practicably applicable criterion
for distinguishing that condition which is for our purpose the ope-
rating cause. From this point of view things are too vague to serve
as causes. A thing is a complex of generalities, a seat of countless
qualities known or unknown, the center of an infinity of relations,
along the line of any one of which its qualities may operate. Yet to
disregard things altogether, and to consider qualities and relations
only, is to fall back on Hume's conception of causality, and retain
no law or order in the world other than subjective rule of habit.
This difficulty is in part met in the exact sciences by the modern
conception of causality based on the conservation of energy and the
equivalence of the forces of nature. The cause equals the effect in
units of force, and the chain of causation is a series of mathematical
physical equations. What is the significance, and what are the

48 MIND AND BODY.

limitations of this principle? In the present state of science it is a
mere postulate. The complication of the problem, if nothing else,
prevents verification in the majority of cases. But verification,
when possible, is so precise, the evidence accumulates so rapidly,
and the satisfaction of the imaginative desire for unity is so complete,
that we assume the law to be absolute for the physical world. Does
this mean that the physical order constitutes a closed series, into
which it is demonstrably impossible to interpolate an alien or spirit-
ual link, such as an impulse from the soul to the brain, however
slight? On this point there is an apparent uncertainty in Wundt's
utterances. The energy of position to be developed by a stone
hurled into the air would remain the same, he says, were the stone
arrested by a miracle and held in suspense for a given time. Now,
only a small portion of the equations by which the mechanical ex-
planation of the universe is stated are dynamic, we are in every case
compelled to rest finally on static equations. And the validity of
such equations, while not inconsistent with the conception of the
physical world as a closed series, does not preclude the intrusion of
an alien form of causality, provided the intruder is not supposed to
create, but only to direct or release energy. But surely the only
meaning of this is that gravitation, chemical affinity and electricity
are still mysteries which we are unable to explain in dynamically con-
tinuous terminology. But the modern ' flowing philosophers ' will
claim that all reality is ultimately expressible in dynamical terms,
and that the statical equations are mere temporary expressions of
our ignorance. In which case they can only be met by pointing out
that on this assumption every problem will be infinitely complicated
and commit us to an infinite regress, making the mechanical expla-
nation of the world forever impossible. Wundt virtually admits
this. There are two conceivable types of miracles, he says: those
that create new energy and those that merely release latent energy.
The first are excluded by the law of the conservation of energy.
The second become impossible if we postulate a continuous series of
dynamic equations between any two statical equations. In any case,
the burden of proof rests with the affirmer. Psychic phenomena
yield no warrant for assuming miracles of the second kind, and the
complexity and purposiveness, which we see in actions, known to
be purely reflex and unconscious, are against it. Complete psycho-
physical parallelism, then, as an empirically given fact and a postu-
late of method, must be the doctrine of modern psychology. The
metaphysical meaning of that parallelism and its application beyond
consciousness, belong to metaphysics and epistemology. This

DISCUSSION. 49

parallelism postulates co-existence in time between the associated
members of the physical and mental series. But there are two
psychic realities of which it renders no account. These are the
combinations of psychic elements with each other and the Werthun-
terschiede. There is nothing in the world of physical forces and
processes that corresponds with these.

Here again the young radicals will detect an irrational element
in Wundt's philosophy, and it is necessary to define his meaning.
Even assuming an established parallelism between the elements,
physical combinations cannot explain psychic combinations because
the former are quantitative while the latter are qualitative, and the
product possesses qualities not found in the elements. This truth,
the principle of creative synthesis, as he afterwards calls it, is a
sufficient bar to all 'materialistic' psychology. But in the state-
ment we are considering Wundt seems to have affirmed or denied
more than is necessary. He denies not only that the physical paral-
lelism can account for qualities, but that there is any physical
counterpart. A feeling of inmost union between two tone or color
.sensations implies, he says, no physical bond beyond contemporaneity.
This seems a wanton limitation of the principle of parallelism.
The assumption that there is some sort of a physical basis for the
qualitative likeness of feelings does not, as Wundt holds, lead to the
reductio ad absurdum of a Cartesian pineal gland. There is ample
room for imaginative conjecture in our ignorance of the structure
and functions of the brain. The likeness may be conceived as rep-
resented on the physical side, not merely by physical contiguity but
through connecting fibres or parallelisms of modes of motion. Such
conjectures (which fill so large a place in the psychology of Herbert
Spencer) have no anatomical value, but to deny a priori their possi-
bility is to fling down the gauntlet against one of the most cherished
scientific convictions of the day. Much of the same may be said of
the exclusion of Werthunterschiede from the parallelism. Nobody
claims that their quality is explained by any physical process. But
neither is the quality of a taste or color so explicable. The analysis
of Werthunterschiede into associated elements of pleasurable and
painful feeling fills too large a space in contemporary ethics to be
thus dismissed with a contemptuous fin de non recevoir. The psy-
chic elements of pleasure and pain yielded by this analysis find their
parallel in the furtherance or hinderance of the life of the organism.
This is not, as Wundt claims, a mere transference of psychic Wer-
thunterschiede to the physical side. Furtherance and hinderance,

50 MIND AND BOD Y.

as Leslie Stephen has shown at length, are defined in this connection
by the Darwinian doctrine of survival.

These discussions are followed by an amusing and vivacious
critique of the * materialistic ' psychology of Miinsterberg, Ziehen
and others. By materialistic psychology Wundt understands the
psychology that ignores the equal validity of the psychic side of the
parallelism, and deduces psychic events from physical. His weight-
iest criticism, however, is directed not so much against the false
metaphysics of the school as against their doctrinaire simplification
of the facts of the mental life, their persistent ignoring of the truth
that for us the psychic side is in every case the most accessible.
The essential vice of their method is that they do not patiently ana-
lyze the entire mental life as they find it, but conduct their analysis
only with the view of winning hypothetical elements, (Bacon's
advolatio ad maxime. genera/ia), which are first correlated with elemen-
tary physical processes, and then combined in conjectural syntheses
to account for everything. All the more complex facts of the mental
life are then reconstructed a priori by physiological hypotheses about
memory and sensory cells, connecting fibres and muscular sensa-
tions, without regard to the creative syntheses involved in all mental
combinations. Where the quality of the products cannot be ignored
it is attributed to the elements, and all possibility of further psy-
chological analysis is precluded. Thus a special spatial and tem-
poral quality is assigned to all sensations per sey and our complete
intuitions of space and time are explained as summations of these.
So Hoffding, to account for recognition, assumes a ' quality of
familiarity ' resting on physiological habit, and all shades of feeling
are explained as degrees of painful or pleasurable muscular and
vaso-motor reflexes. In all these cases the true psychologist de-
mands in place of this mechanical schematism an analysis of the
complex state in mental terms, with distinct recognition and descrip-
tion at each stage of the analysis of the new psychic quality result-
ing from the combination. Even if we grant a certain symbolic
truth to Ziehen's explanation of association by sensory and memory
cells and associative fibres, in what way does so obvious a simplifi-
cation forward our knowledge of the complicated interaction of
image and symbol in our higher mental life? Does not the ready-
made formula, here as elsewhere, check the patient analysis of de-
tail, which is most fruitful in real knowledge? Wundt does not
pause for questions of this kind, but makes merry with the whole
theory, gravely suggesting that instead of saying the sensory cell
deposits a memory in the memory cell, we should treat the memory

DISCUSSION. 5 1

cell as an organism which feeds on the sensory cell, an hypothesis
which he elaborates with somewhat ponderous Teutonic wit. Finally
he points out that this hypothetical anatomy is of even less value to
the physiologist than to the psychologist.

Much of the content of Wundt's final and longest chapter on
psychic causality was anticipated in my introduction to this discus-
sion. Specific psychic causality is found in all real processes of the
mental life. For the intensive quote t the sensation, has real existence
for consciousness only in space and time, and space and time, as we
have seen, are products of creative psychic syntheses. Wundt's in-
sistence on this point might seem an injustice to Ziehen, who ex-
plicitly recognizes that the projection of our sensations into space is
"one of those psychological facts that are as yet incomprehensible
in the light of physiological psychology, and that perhaps will
always remain so." The fact is that in this controversy each party
has borrowed all that is available of the dialectical equipment of the
adversary, and that while they try to magnify their differences, their
real difference is mainly one of taste in the statement of transcen-
dental or irreducible problems. Wundt attaches value to the psy-
chological analysis of our spatial perceptions. Ziehen does not; but
it cannot be said that Ziehen attempts to explain space by physiolog-
ical processes. Similarly of the controversy about memory, repro-
duction and association. The so-called laws of association are
barren formulae, he tells us. The true explanation of any concrete
association is to be sought in the entire content of the consciousness
as determined by the totality of its history and original endowment.
This of course is an endless series. The physiological psychologists
would simplify the problem by substituting the totality of the brain
or nervous system, thus shutting us off from all real study of the
facts. For psychological analysis can to some extent ascertain the
facts in the past history of a given mind that determine a given
associative reaction, but psycho-physics is limited to the barren
generalization that the total consciousness is a reflection of the total
state of the brain. The psychological analysis, however, will
always remain on the border line between literature and science,
and will not appeal to those who lack Wundt's literary skill or whose
minds are dominated by the ideal of causation that prevails in the
physical sciences.

In conclusion the author asks if it is possible to formulate defi-
nite laws of psychic causality. In the sense in which we speak of
Kepler's or Galileo's laws, no. For the most characteristic psychic
states are determinations of quality and worth, which do not admit

52 MIND AND BODY.

of quantitative formulation. By way of summing up the whole dis-
cussion, however, Wundt sets up two or three principles as specific
notes or marks of psychic causality. First, the principle of pure
actuality of process. This is in substance an adaptation to modern
conceptions of Aristotle's doctrine that thought is pure energy and
does not exist as a potentiality. Psychic causes in all cases must be
real psychic events, for which it is not possible to substitute
1 things ' and their potencies, whether in the shape of a substantial
soul, faculties, ready-made ideas or physiological processes. The
temporary suspension of our consciousness is no objection to this
view, Wundt thinks, provided a connection can be made out across
the gap. How he would deal with double and split-off conscious
personalities he does not indicate. This psychic causality is directly
and intuitively perceived by self-observation, and thereby differs
from physical causality, which is purely hypothetical and conceptual.
It is here that the fundamental opposition between Wundt and the
opposite school, who hold ultimately of Hume, appears. They
would deny that we perceive in the sequence of our thoughts a con-
straining causal force any more than in the communication of force
from one billiard ball to another.

With the principle of creative synthesis we are already familiar
as the main idea of the whole book. The elements used by mechani-
cal philosophers and psychologists in their constructions lack the
qualities and the values of the real world of our experience. These
qualities cannot be got out of the elements unless we grant the
creative activity of the mind at each stage of the process. This
principle, asserted against the Epicureans by the ancients, is a con-
clusive refutation of all attempts, from Lucretius to Herbert
Spencer, to evolve the heterogeneous out of the homogeneous.
Wundt is then sound in his main contention, as he is in affirming
that the task of psychology is to trace the operation of this creative
synthesis, rather than to elaborate unverifiable conjectures with
regard to its physical parallels. What I cannot comprehend is his
denial of the physical parallelism. Suppose, for argument's sake,
that our analysis has reached elementary units. If these units are
both psychic and physical, the psychic element has its physical
parallel, which yet in no way accounts for its quote. Why, then, in
the same sense, may not combinations of the one set of elements
correspond in all cases to combinations of the other, though not ex-
plaining the specific quality that attaches to the compound? Will he
say that it is because the only conceivable combination of the physi-
cal elements is spatial and temporal, and space and time themselves

DISCUSSION. 5 3

exist only as products of the psychic syntheses, and imply a pre-ex-
isting consciousness capable of forming such syntheses? But is not
this falling back into that idealistic denial of * objects ' from which
we were told psychology (like the other sciences) must provisionally
make abstraction? And does it not require for its explanation a
complete statement of the idealistic philosophy of Wundt? And as
I said in the beginning, can we be sure that it means anything very
different from Miinsterberg's admission that the fact of conscious-
ness, as a whole, has no counterpart in the physical world? Thus
while we all agree in deprecating the contamination of psychology
with metaphysics, psychological literature is largely occupied with
controversy over metaphysical conceptions introduced by the back
door. PAUL SHOREY.

UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO.

ATTENTION AS INTENSIFYING SENSATION.

Dr. Munsterberg begins a paper on this subject (PSYCHOLOGICAL
REVIEW, vol. i, p. 39) by stating that the popular and generally re-
ceived view is that attention does intensify our sensations. Com-
mon introspection certainly avers that attention as sensing effort
generally, and within certain limits, is rewarded by increase of sen-
sation. If I wish to hear better I listen harder; that is, I raise the
sensation to stronger intensity by attending. I look for a dim star,
I find it, and, increasing my cognitive effort, it appears brighter up
to a certain maximum dependent on my state of health, training, etc.
The keenest, most effortful glance gets the strongest sensation of a
given light stimulus.

Fechner's observation that gray paper does not appear lighter the
harder we look at it, does not destroy the fact that the more intensely
we sense gray, the stronger is our sensation of it. And it must also
be said that a dark object may with greater attention be discerned
as gray, and dark gray as light gray; that is, where attention means
not closeness of scrutiny, which often tends to close the eyes, but a
wide open-eyed attempt to get full impression.

Further, the general theory of evolution leads us to suppose that
only by attention has sensing and perceiving arisen and been de-
veloped in the struggle of life. It is by trying hard that the animal
sees', and the harder it tries the more intensely it sees. Originally,
then, a sensation becomes intense by attention as intensifying act,
the sensing act is achieved and developed to various intensities only
by and as cognitive effort. How is it, then, that an intense sound

54 A TTENTION A S INTENSIF YING SENSA TION.

gives us involuntarily, without the least effort, an intense sensation?
This, we answer, is due to the efforts of ancestors for ages who at first
were unable to hear the loudest sounds, but gradually achieved the
hearing them, and hearing them intensely, and this tendency, per-
fected and integrated as useful in the struggle of existence, has been
transmitted to us, in whom it acts automatically.

We believe, then, that if struggle or nisus is the fundamental
power in the evolution of consciousness, then consciousness inten-
sities of all kinds must be traced to attention; and so in the evolution
of sense, attention is practically synonymous with sensation intensity.
This does not deny that in certain cases of thoroughly integrated
and automatic sensation cognitive volition when applied may be a
hindrance, may reduce intensity and effectiveness of the sensation
which always appear merely as a given. But this is of minor moment
in a general discussion of attention. That we hear, and hear intense-
ly, without listening, is because our innumerable ancestors listened,
and listened hard. And so if future generations are to have certain
forms and intensities of sensation come to them, it will be by our at-
tention.

It may be evident, but it deserves emphasis, that we do not mean
by sensation-attention, attending to a sensation. It is sufficient to
know that where we now have intense sensations without intense at-
tention, and without attention at all, this is not original and natural
method, and that even now in general, when we wish to intensify
our sensations, we exert cognitive effort, and with success. Ex-
pressed physiologically, it is the doctrine that function determines
organ; that we see, not because we have eyes, but we have eyes be-
cause we see. The sensing effort has developed the eye, and by
visual effort we now open the eyes wide and accommodate them, etc.,
thus securing intensity of sensation. Attending to a sensation is
weakening to the sensation attended to. Thus, when absorbed in
listening to music, some one asks me, * Do you hear that false note?'
the attention to the sensation as such weakens or destroys the sen-
sation. Sensation-attention is not for us a consciousness outside of
and directed to sensation, but sensing activity itself as cognitive
effort. Nor is attention, as Mr. Shand implies, (Mind, Oct., 1894)
a 'letting alone,' an isolating to see if a psychosis will strengthen, or
will weaken and disappear. This hereditary spontaneous force of a
cognition is the integrated result of past attentions, but is itself very
different from attention as cognitive effort.

Believing, then, that sensation intensities are bound up with at-
tention intensities as a general fact of mind, we were interested to

DISCUSSION. 55

see how Dr. Miinsterberg's experiments would bear on this law, to
which he alludes in his opening remarks as the scope of his inquiry.
However, we discover that it is only a certain kind of attention, ex-
pectant, and a certain kind of this, too much expectancy, that is
really treated, with the result that sensations of light, sound, etc.,
are rendered less intense when we set our attention at too high a
notch. The familiar experience of lifting falsely estimated weights
is appealed to in a general way, but let us particularize. I see a
two-pound wooden ball, which I take to be a ten-pound iron ball, and
making muscular pre-adjustment, according to my misjudgment, it
lifts 'as light as a feather;' I do not get the impression of a two-
pound ball lifted with more just preparation or in a mere casual way.
Thus sensations of weight may in intensity be inversely relative to
the effort put forth. So if I am bid to look for a bright light or
listen for a loud sound, and only slight stimuli actually occur, the
sensations will be actually slighter in intensity than they would other-
wise have been; the light does not seem so bright nor the sound so
loud as when no pre-adjustment has been made. Now this result is
not really * unexpected,' but is quite the 'popular view.' We all
know the answer which is commonly returned to those who realize
certain sensations rather feebly, 'you set your hopes too high.'

But pre-adjustment may be too little as well as too much — a fact
which Dr. Miinsterberg does not notice — and the consequence is an
undue increasing of intensity of sensation. When coming down
stairs, and inadvertently taking two steps at a time, you have a pe-
culiar abnormal increase of intensity of sensation, seeming to drop a
very long distance, altogether disproportional to the actual distance,
and this result is plainly owing to the wrong degree of pre-adjust-
ment. Similarly for sensations of light, sound, etc., it is a common
experience that under-adjustment means over-intensifying sensation.
It is only when pre-conception and pre-adjustment are in a certain
exact relation to stimuli that sensation occurs without abnormal
heightening or lowering. It is well known that reaction-time is
lessened by correct expectant attention.

The conditions and methods of the experiments call for some
criticism. The agents were directed to have their attention ' fully '
occupied with adding numbers. Now, adding is a process which is
with most educated persons more or less automatic unless at top
speed. But what is ' full ' attention ? Is it a scientifically determi-
nable state, and one which can be induced as readily as securing air
full of moisture at what we term saturation point? How can the
experimenter be sure of attention at a certain degree? The inexact-

$6 A TTENTION AS INTENSIFYING SENS A TION.

ness of experimental psychics as compared with physics is certainly
great. The intensity of cognitive effort is neither easily discernible
or measurable. However, we may say this, that attention at it&
strongest, is complete absorption of psychic capacity, and an agent
in this state as regards adding effort would be entirely insensible
to any stimuli. Further, full attention can only be reached by the
full interest. When life for a wrecked sailor hangs on his seeing a
certain beacon, then the intense interest is secured which assures
intensest attention. But having, if possible, secured the highest at-
tentions of several individuals, these attentions cannot be lumped
together as identical in value. The tensile strength of iron bars of
a given quality may be determined as equal, and the results used as
a general value; but attention, as all mentality, has an individual
equation. Again, it may be that the method of measuring intensity
of sensation employed is the only feasible one, namely, judging in-
tensity by the estimation the subject puts upon intensity of stimulus,
still its inexactness is obvious. If a man says after lifting two rocks,
one is twice as heavy as the other, are we thereby certain that one
sensation was twice the intensity of the other, or may not the man
judge also from other methods ? At least the method ought not to
be assumed without criticism and validation.

Further, Dr. Miinsterberg finally explains attention as reducing
intensity of sensation by feeling of strain. A tenseness of attention
introduces a feeling of strain, which decreases the sensation felt.
Sense of strain is undoubtedly divisive of consciousness, if with Dr,
Miinsterberg we interpret it as feeling of intensity. However, we
do not gain anything by considering intensity of feeling as feeling of
intensity. I have an intenser light sensation from the sun than
from a candle, but if I say the intenser sensation is such by virtue
of the greater feelings of tension, this means no more than that in-
tensity of the sensation depends upon a sensation of an intense sen-
sation, which latter intensity has to be explained, and so on. How-
ever, as I have pointed out, (Mind, XIV., p. 538) it is desirable to
understand intensity not as a consciousness, but, like duration, as a
quality. Every consciousness, including consciousness of intensity,
has its intensity, which may or may not be felt or attended to.
Strictly speaking, the intensity of my sensation — a feeling intensely —
is never feeling of intensity, consciousness of intensity.

Still further, the 'chosen graduation of the stimuli' must be
justified in the light of Weber's law, and the time intervals must also
have their justification. The relation of change in time in attention
and inattention and unattention to the problem of sensation inten-

DISCUSSION. 57

sity must also be investigated if any satisfactory result is to be ob-
tained. To get exact results in experimental psychology in general
is then, I am persuaded, an enormously difficult task. The complex-
ity of adult human consciousness is so great that it seems well nigh
impossible to isolate the factors we are studying, and to secure
identical reactions in a sufficiently large number of cases to prove a
psychic law. Physical conditions are far more under our control
than psychical, and are far easier to observe, and hence physical
science has arrived at a consensus which is notably lacking in psychi-
cal. Essential preliminaries must first be settled before experimen-
tal psychology can really be fruitful, and the relation of attention to
intensity of sensation requires far closer definition of subject and
method than has yet been given it, if results of large scientific value
are to be obtained. HIRAM M. STANLEY.

LAKE FOREST UNIVERSITY.

PLEASURE-PAIN AND EMOTION.

Serious and courteous criticism from the pen of a thinker, skilled
in the subject of discussion, is certainly in all cases to be welcomed
by an author, and I feel much gratification in reading Dr. Santay-
ana's remarks upon my lately-published book1 in the July number of
this REVIEW. •

There are one or two points raised in the review which I think
it worth while to discuss.

In the first place, in the interest of psychological advance I must
deprecate the implication of the opening paragraphs ; viz. : that
the writer of what aims to be a scientific discussion of pyschologic
doctrine is no great sinner if he consider the claims of literary
aesthetics in his exposition, where there is the slightest chance that
the clearness and definiteness of his meaning may thereby suffer.

I regret much more than my critic can do that the book is so un-
attractive in its literary quality, but on the whole I do not feel
confident that I could have made it more pleasing had I not deemed
it of the utmost importance to aim at accuracy and to waive verbal
preferences in favor of precision.

I am free to confess that the reading over and over again of my
proofs has produced within me a deep-seated digust with many phrasess
in the book, notably with the compound word pleasure-pain ; but what
authorized substitute could I have used in this case save the word

1 Pain, Pleasure and ^Esthetics.

58 PLEASURE AND EMOTION.

'feeling'? — a word which is truly much more euphonious than the
one employed, but entirely devoid of accuracy. I do not wish to
excuse the evil complained of by my critic, a cleverer writer might
have overcome it ; but I think that it would have been all wrong to
have chosen in any case literary worth as against definiteness, in
such a work.

I raise this point principally because I feel that psychologists to-
day are too often careless in this regard. They are too apt to
discard in disgust an awkward but accurate term or phrase and to
use in its place something of better aesthetic quality but decidedly
inferior in definiteness. Or they go even further and add emphasis to
unimportant particulars by the attractive nature of some form of
speech or of some chance illustration. The extraordinary miscon-
ception of Prof. James' emotional theory by other psychologists, to
which he draws attention in the September number of this REVIEW,
may in my opinion be partly accounted for in this way. I have in
mind a case in which I myself entirely lost the drift of an interesting
argument presented in a paper read before the last meeting of the
Psychological Association, because my mind refused to be dragged
away from the aesthetic contemplation of a happily-used and beautiful
quotation to the hard thinking required in following the course of
the argument.

In the field which I touch the preference of euphonious but
inaccurate terms and phrases, where ' barbarous ' but accurate ones
could be found, has been especially unfortunate in result.

I am very sure, for instance, that much of the voluminous litera-
ture of the subject of which I have treated would have remained
unpublished had the authors avoided the use of * Gefilhl ' in German
and * Feeling ' in English. Had they used ' pleasure-pain ' (or some
better equivalent) when and only when they meant it and nothing
else, many of their most effective periods would have become
evidently illogical or irrelevant. My critic shall furnish me with an
example of the danger. It is much pleasanter to speak of the aes-
thetic as determined by pleasures of memory, than by pleasures of
revival ; and to avoid repetition I did give way once, I believe,
and use that term in one of the statedly popular summaries. But
the pleasures of memory are not all that I refer to. A memory is a
special kind of revival. Revival therefore is a much broader term
than memory. What I refer to are revival pleasures, and the use of
the word memory in this connection at once limits the thought of the
reader to definite objects : With my critic, the notion that the two

DISCUSSION. 59

terms are interchangeable has led him at times to misconceive to
some extent the thesis presented for examination.

What has worried me indeed has been not so much the failures
of style, to which Dr. Santayana calls attention, as the conscious-
ness that I may possibly have been guilty of the very faults of in-
accuracy that I deplore in others.

But to turn to the criticism itself, I have no desire to combat
objections raised except where they seem to involve misapprehen-
sion, and I am glad to say that I think all of Dr. Santayana's oppo-
sitions, as expressed, will disappear upon a clearer apprehension of
my meaning.

I hold that there is no "clear distinction between the sense of
pleasure and the sense of beauty " in impression : and these last two
words, that I add, are of the very essence of my thesis. The dis-
tinction which is noticed is one made in judgment upon revivals.
With these two words added to Dr. Santayana's expression I have
no hesitation in leaving the cases he brings forward to introspective
tests. I am sure that for myself when "I have no definite object
before the mind, but am lost in a torpid reverie " which is pleasant,
the state of impression is indistinguishable from many of the impres-
sions that are called distinctly aesthetic ; e. £-., the impressions com-
ing to me as I listen to some parts of Wagner's 'Tristan and
Isolde ' ; and I have no hesitancy in holding that if an object after-
wards to be judged beautiful were to appear in connection with this
reverie, the pleasures of aesthetic impression connected with this
object would completely fuse with those of the ' torpid reverie. *
The point of difference lies just in the distinction between the
aesthetic judgment and the aesthetic impression, the former of which
always relates to objects or objective states. In this particular case
the revival of the state of * torpid reverie ' is necessarily associated
with the torpid object, and for most people such torpid objects or
their mental states are, in revival, so very insipid that they cannot
be noticed to be pleasurable and are therefore judged to be un-
sesthetic. Dr. Santayana says "but this pleasure" (of torpid
reverie) "would not be aesthetic, because I could not perceive any
beauty, seeing that no object is present to me in which that beauty
may reside. " By the words 'would not be aesthetic ' he certainly
means "would not be called or thought of in retrospect as
aesthetic " ; he is speaking of what I consider to be a judgment as
to the nature of revivals. His words, however, would lead one to
think that he considers this phrase to relate to the direct nature of
the impression.

60 PLEASURE AND EMOTION,

The other case mentioned by my critic is also, I think, distinctly
in my favor. It is perfectly true that "few pleasures are so vivid in
revival as those of satisfied vanity, affection, revenge and other per-
sonal passions," and so far as I have indulged myself in these intox-
icants I feel sure that I have been aesthetically impressed at the time.
I am unable to draw any distinction between these pleasurable
impressions •, so long as they remain mere impressions and those other
impressions produced by what is acknowledged to be beautiful. The
distinction comes in the revivals upon which we act in judgment,
when the despicableness of the self-complacency brings a balance of
pain to a man who is properly constituted. My critic's examples,
indeed, are not here very forcible, for, in the revivals of the * personal
passions ' mentioned, I am usually distinctly judging of myself as
worthy in some respect and therefore as an aesthetic object.

There is another direction in which I wish to make my position
clearer. I am one of those who think that too much emphasis is
given to-day in some quarters to the physiological basis of psychol-
ogy. I am heartily in sympathy with any investigations that can
throw light upon psychology, and I think the patience and persist-
ency of our experimenters in psychophysics is most noble, and,
except so far as it is misapplied, it certainly should be most heartily
encouraged and applauded. On the other hand, I feel with many
of the advanced neurologists that we can only claim to be beginning
to understand the nature of those neural changes which form the
basis of psychic life. I do not feel sure that our present notions of
the relation between mind and body may not seem very crude in a
few centuries from now, just as those held by the Greek philoso-
phers do to us to-day.

Just here it will be convenient and appropriate to call attention to
a point which relates to this subject-matter, and which supports the
view just expressed. Two years ago Dr. H. Nichols published in
the Philosophical Review a defence of a theory that pains are a species
of sensation. I argued in a reply, which appears again in my book,
that this view is opposed to psychological evidence, and that the
facts, mainly physiological and histological, upon which the theory
depends for its support are, with possibly one exception, entirely
compatible with other deductions than those made by those uphold-
ing the sensational theory. This one exception was the claim made
that Goldscheider had discovered definite nerve-terminals for pain
in the skin. I objected that in this field the statement of one ob-
server of a limited number of subjects should be received with cau-
tion, and I further noted that Goldscheider had implicitly denied the

DISCUSSION. 6 1

position involved in his first statement as it was interpreted, and
upon which interpretation Dr. Nichols founded his argument. Dr.
L. Witmer has lately reiterated Dr. Nichols' theory in the Journal of
Nervous and Mental Diseases for April, 1894, and has sharply called me
to task for being unwilling to accept as final Goldscheider's supposed
dictum. Dr. Collins, in his review of my book in the same journal,
has made the same criticism of my position in this respect. But
now there comes to hand a new book by Goldscheider. — ' Ueber den
Schmerz, ' Berlin, 1894, — which serves I think to teach a lesson to
all psychologists, and especially to those who may have taken inter-
est in this discussion ; for in this book Goldscheider distinctly
denies the view which has been thus attributed to him, and seems to
think he cannot properly have been held to be a defender of a posi-
tion so evidently untenable ; although I think his words in his early
publications certainly spoke clearly as they have been understood.
Goldscheider now holds (p. 7) that Schmerz is "cine besondere
Qualitat der Empfindung, nicht eine alien verschiedenen Qualitaten
gemeinschaftliche Modifikation der Empfindung. " Further (p. 13),
"dass die Schmerzempfindung den Drucksinn and Gemein-gefiihls-
nerven eigen ist, alien tibrigen Sinnesnerven aber fehlt. " I do not
appreciate upon what sufficient grounds he bases his belief in the
existence of these Gemeingefiihlsnerven (see also p. 33) and of the
Gemeingefiihlserregungen spoken of elsewhere (see p. 8). He tells
us further (p. 18), " Hiernach lage es in der That nahe, jeden
Schmerz als ein Summations-Phanomen anzusehen, allein dies gilt
nicht ausnahmslos " : and he postulates a ' Summations-Organ ' (see
p. 34) located in the spinal cord (see p. 19) to account for the effects
of pain. It does not seem to me that we should receive without
caution the statements of an investigator who makes such free use
of unverified hypotheses.

Goldscheider in this new treatise, if he does nothing else, shows
conclusively that our knowledge of the nature of the neural changes
which are the coincidents of pain consciousness is of the most in-
definite character, open to dispute in every direction, and that no
physiological or histological theory relating thereto can to-day be
held to be proved. Moreover, so far as I can see, there is little
reason to lead us to hope that we shall be able to reach any settled
position in this respect in the near future.

This occurrence strengthens within me the conviction with which
I wish more of our psychologists clearly showed their sympathy,
that introspective psychology must move on in her development
without waiting for the positive teaching of psycho-physics ; she

62 PLEASURE AND EMOTION.

must of course endeavor to check the results of introspection by
what becomes known through psychological investigation ; but it
would surely be a great loss to philosophy and to science in general
if psychology hesitated in her course while awaiting clear light from
this source.

This being my view, it was with regret that I found it impossible
to discuss adequately in my book that which has been done in the
past in reference to the physiological basis of pleasure and pain, and
to suggest the direction in which the facts before us vaguely point,
without giving relatively much more space to the subject than its
importance warrants.

I am disappointed, moreover, to find notices of the physiological
theory so prominent in the reviews of the book, and especially to
find Dr. Santayana in this review taking for granted that the basis
of my aesthetic principles is to be found only in this necessarily
vague physiological theory. In fact if the reader will take the
trouble to examine the matter he will find that the basis of these
aesthetic distinctions and principles is really determined by intro-
spective evidence and not derived from physiological hypotheses ;
and that the physiological correspondence, as it would appear under
my theory, is generally stated in the chapters dealing with these
principles, in small print in brackets. Thus it appears indeed that
the psychological aesthetic principles give us a very strong corrob-
oration of the physiological theory, but I do .not feel that it is evi-
dent that these aesthetic principles necessarily fall if the physical
theory crumble into dust, as is implied in this review, and as has
been asserted by Dr. Jos. Collins in the review in the Journal of
Nervous and Mental Diseases above referred to.

It is because I feel the secondary importance of this physiological
view that I am also greatly disappointed to find my critic holding
that my r&&\n. psychological thesis turns upon a mere matter of words.
I had hoped to show that this psychological thesis has strength; and
that, so far as our knowledge of the physiological aspect of the sub-
ject goes, the psychological view is not incompatible with that
knowledge ; for I seem to see that if the psychological view be true,
and if it be carried out to its consequences, it may lead to results in
other directions than those especially studied that may prove to be
interesting at least ; and I had hoped that the results as brought
forward in relation to the emotions, the art impulse, and the princi-
ples of aesthetics, might appear to be not wholly valueless, altogether
apart from any physiological theory whatever. As this psychological
theory is in my view thus important, I trust that it will not appear

DISCUSSION. 63

out of place if I try to convince my critic that it is a great deal
more than a mere verbal contention that I make.

In the first place I may again call attention to the dangers at-
tendant upon the aesthetic treatment of what should be strictly
accurate science. Dr. Santayana's statement of my proposed defini-
tion of pleasure and pain is probably pleasanter to his ear than my
own. Restates that I hold them to be " qualities either of which
may and one of which must belong to every perception of the mind. "
But this is not the doctrine I have expressed, unless my phrase
1 each element of consciousness ' is made equivalent to his ' every
perception of the mind. ' I do not think the two expressions are at
all synonymous, and I believe that one must avoid the statement as
made by him if one is to grasp correctly the thesis and its impli-
cations.

But passing over this inaccuracy, let us turn to his argument
itself. It is perfectly true that we may equally well say " that color
is a quality of extension, or that they are two simultaneous percep-
tions, or that they are both qualities of a present substance. " But
is it no gain to take note of the fact that at times when there is no
color perception at all there still may be a consciousness of exten-
sion ; that other sensations and mental modes than color sensations
have this consciousness of extension connected with them ? Is no
importance to be attached to the thesis that extensity may be a
quality of very wide application ? Can it justly be held that the
contention of the present day in relation to space, which turns upon
this thesis, and in which the greatest psychological thinkers of our
time are involved, — that this contention 'turns upon a matter of
words, ' * becomes real and not verbal only in the field of physiology ' ?

Or to take another instance more to my liking. The intensity of
a color may be treated as Dr. Santayana treats its extensity. It
might be said that the facts may be "described equally well by say-
ing that color is a quality of" intensity, "or that they are two
simultaneous perceptions, or that they are both qualities of a present
substance. " But is it no gain to psychology that more or less of
intensity is acknowledged to be a quality attached to all elements of
consciousness ? Would it be of no value to make contention for
this doctrine were psychology in so crude a state that some masters
held * intensity ' to be a species of sensation ; others that it is a kind
of emotion ; others that it is the fundamental basis of all psychic
life ; others of great weight that a special kind of mind, apart from
our cognitive mind, must be postulated to enable us to grasp intensity
— /. e. , that intensity is a mental mode sui generis ? Could such con-

64 PLEASURE AND EMOTION.

tention, if it were necessary, be held to turn upon a mere matter of
words, and to become a real question ' and not verbal only in the
field of physiology ' ? It is such a contention as this that I make
for pleasure-pain.

HENRY RUTGERS MARSHALL.
NEW YORK.

A COMMENT.

In Wundt's article, Zur Lehre von den Gemiithsbewegungen (Phil.
Stud., vi, p. 364), occurs the following passage :

Die Apperception selbst ist nichts, was den Effecten, die sie am
Vorstellungsinhalte erzeugt, und den Begleiterscheinungen, die sie
im Gebiet des Gefiihls hat, als etwas besonderes, realiter zu tren-
nendes gegeniiberstande. Vielmehr besteht sie selbst nur aus diesen
Begleiterscheinungen und Wirkungen.

Professor James exclaims, apropos of the last sentence: "A
thing that « consists ' of its concomitants ! " (This REVIEW, I, p.
516.) The exclamation is hardly fair criticism. We read, p. 390 of
the same article:

Zu jenen Begleiterscheinungen reche ich in erster Linie gewisse
zu Vorstellungen vereinigte Empfindungen, in zweiter Linie die
Wiliensacte theils vorbereitenden theils mit ihnen unmittelbar ver-
bundenen Gefiihle. Die letzteren lassen sich jedoch nur auf Grund
der einmal vollzogenen abstracten Unterscheidung zwischen Ftihlen
und Wollen Begleiterscheinungen des Willens nennen. In Zusam-
menhang mit der Entwickelung des Willens betrachtet, verwandeln
sie sich selbst in Elemente der Willensthatigkeit, die sich aber des-
halb, weil aus ihnen nicht immer ein actuelles Wollen hervorgeht,
nun auch in solchen Fallen, wo dieses eintritt, demselben als begrif-
flich trennbare Bestandtheile gegeniiberstellen lassen.

It is, of course, really not much fairer to quote two passages
without context than it is to quote one. But the second of the
above citations may serve to show that Professor James' scorn is not
so undoubtedly merited as might at first sight appear.

E. B. TITCHENER.

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE.

HALLUCINATIONS AND TELEPATHY.

Ueber die Trugwahrnehmung (Hallucination und Illusion) mit besonderer
Berucksichtigung der internationalen enqufae iiber Wachhallucination
bei Gesunden. EDMUND PARISH. Leipzig, Abel, 1894, [Schriften
d. Ges. f. psych. Forschung, Heft 7-8; II. Sammlung] Pp. 246.

The erudition of Herr Parish's work is exemplary and admirable,
and in its text and footnotes it is safe to say that one may find ref-
erence to everything, important and unimportant, that in recent
years has been written on hallucinations from either the medical or
the psychological point of view. The author's personal contribu-
tions to the subject are animated by the laudable desire to minimize
mysteries and to explain the exceptional phenomena of which he
treats by the laws of ordininary mental life. The important points
in the book are, first, Herr Parish's general theory of the hallucina-
tory process, a theory which he applies to all possible cases; and
second, his verdict of non liquet upon the telepathic theory of veridi-
cal hallucinations maintained by the English ' psychical researchers. '

His theory of the hallucinatory process is that it is always an in-
cident of 'dissociated* conditions of consciousness. By a dissociated
condition he means one in which ordinary channels of association
are obstructed. Reviewing the conditions under which hallucina-
tion is apt to occur, he finds them predominantly to be of this sort.
In sleep, in the borderland between sleeping and waking, in melan-
choly, in hysteria, epilepsy, the delirum of fever, of fasting, and of
certain narcotic poisonings, in hypnotism and crystal gazing, the fact
of obstructed associations is admitted by all. Even in mania and
drunkenness, where association seems at first sight rampant enough,
this is chiefly verbal association, and objective thought is enfeebled
and slow. The way in which dissociation facilitates hallucination is
according to Herr P., this1 : A stimulus is always drafted off into
the most pervious paths at the time being. In normal association

1 Herr P. expressly bases his theory on that of the hallucinatory process given in
James' Principles of Psychology, II. ii.ff.

65

66 HALLUCINATIONS AND TELEPATHY.

these are the most habitual paths. But there are always many stimuli
at work, and many < cerebrostatical' conditions determining pervious-
ness, so that the final process aroused by a stimulus is the result of an
intricate array of factors. Whatever path is followed to a pause, gives
there a vivid sensible content which, in normal cases, involves a ver-
acious perception of the object from which the stimulus comes. But
if at any moment a dissociative condition is realized, so that the usual
paths are blocked, whilst at the same moment other accidental paths
are in a state of exalted tension from inner causes, then into these
latter the stimulus discharges its energy, making them explode with
the maximum of force ; so that the result is the perception of an
object having no usual connection with the stimulus, and by the
vividness of which the consciousness of the latter may be eclipsed.
The reigning state of obstructed association moreover weakens the
subject's critical reaction, and the false perception is not only ex-
perienced but believed. This theory is ably defended by our author,
and has the merit of being very general, and of bringing hallucina-
tions and illusions under a common law.

Do the sporadic waking hallucinations inquired into by the
* Census' of the International Congress of Psychologists easily fit
under this law ? Our author tries to make them do so. First he
attacks the truth of the Census, in which ' borderland ' cases are
hardly more than half as numerous as the 'waking* cases. Consid-
ering this to be a priori impossible, he explains the actual statistics
plausibly enough by the greater tendency of the borderland cases to
be forgotten (it being already demonstrated that the majority of all
hallucinations are forgotten). Next, taking the alleged waking
cases, he shows by a number of examples that in them also dreami-
ness or some other dissociated consciousness may be supposed — The
Subject was 'fixating' something, if no stronger reason can be al-
leged. I must say that Herr Parish seems to me here to drive his
theory a little too hard. Many of the narratives so distinctly be-
long to normal consciousness, that the better tactics would be to
discredit their veracity altogether ; and this method also, Herr
Parish applies vigorously to the particular class of hallucinations
called veridical or coincidental (e. g., with the death of the person
perceived).

Prof. Royce's suggestion that the narratives are often due to
'pseudo-presentiment' (false belief, after the death has happened,
that it had been symbolized by an apparition previously) is made
liberal use of, in spite of its almost absolutely conjectural character.
The much sounder objection follows that genuinely occurring hallu-

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 6/

cinations are equipped afterwards, by the retrospective imagination
of their percipients, with details that fit those of the event with
which, when it happens, they are supposed to be connected. This
especially applies to them where they are collective, the different
percipients obeying each other's suggestion as to what they saw.
Finally the false appearance of frequency of hallucinations of the
coincidental class is explained by the far greater tendency of the
non-coincidentals to become forgotten, the coincidentals resisting
oblivion. Furthermore, Herr Parish contends that the ' frequency '
of the coincidental should in any discussion as to their being due to
chance be set down as the ratio of their number to that of hallucina-
tions of all varieties, and not to that of their own variety, which- in
the argument of the English committee is defined as that of 'appa-
ritions of recognized living persons. ' For all these reasons, Herr
Parish concludes, the alleged frequency of the veridical class ef
hallucinations becomes so reduced as to form no argument against
the genuine cases among them being due to chance. Moreover, he
adds, we cannot lump the cases in one order of probability;.
Where for example the percipient is the anxious child of an aged
parent ill with pneumonia, the chances are that if she have an hallu-
cination at all, it will have that parent for its subject.

Herr Parish's criticisms are partly based on the provisional re-
port of the English committee published at the International Congress
of 1892. The committee have themselves considered such objec-
tions in their final report, which forms the subject of our next article.
So I will immediately proceed to give some account of that. I will
say meanwhile that this German critic's tone is uniformly respect-
ful ; that he himself prints the 59-yes cases of the Munich Census,
of which ii are more or less coincidental ; and finally that his work
is the most solid existing contribution to the subject up to the date
of the report whose title follows below.

Apparitions and Thought Transference, an Examination of the Evidence for
Telepathy. FRANK PODMORE. Contemporary Scientific Series.
New York, Charles Scribner's Sons, 1894. 12°, pp. 401.

Mr. Podmore gives here a convenient summary of the work of the
Society for Psychical Research, striving to make the theory of tele-
pathy cover as much of the field as it can be stretched over. When
one sees brought together, as here in the early chapters, the evi-
dence for thought-transference drawn from the simple experiment
in which one person is set to guessing numbers, drawings, etc., which
another person is intently looking-at or thinking-of, one perceives

6$ PODMORE S APPARITIONS AND THOUGHT TRANSFERENCE.

that it is far from contemptible in either quality or amount, and
even if one is unwilling oneself to follow, one can find no very harsh
names to apply to those who, like Mr. Podmore, take thought-trans-
ference as an approved vera causa, and try by its means to explain
such phenomena as apparitions at the time of death, distinct in
nature as they appear at first sight to be from the successful guess-
ing of pictures in another's mind.

The book mentions successful experiments of the simple order
with at least thirty subjects at short-range, and this leaves out
many of the records published in the S. P. R. Proceedings. Of
course these experiments are of diverse value, some of them being
too brief or too faulty in method to base strict conclusions on, but
they all contribute to the cumulative impression that chance and
trickery can with difficulty be supposed to be the only things con-
cerned. As an instance of a good series I take the observations
of Mrs. Sidgwick on five hypnotized subjects who guessed numbers
drawn by a third person from a bag containing 81 lotto-counters
{.marked from 10 to 90, and handed to the hypnotizer to gaze at, all
this of course out of sight of the subject. Out of 644 trials 131 were
successful, that is, both digits were given correctly, though in 14
out of the 131 cases the order was reversed. ' Chance ' should only
have given 8 correct guesses. Again, with hypnotizer and subject
in different rooms, there were 27 quite correct guesses, instead of the
chance-number, 3. In the unsuccessful trials here, the first digit
came right 85 out of the 252 times, instead of the chance number,
28. Mrs. Sidgwick went through another series with the same
subjects, in which * mental pictures ' were the things to be guessed,
some of them being quite complex scenes, in all 108 experiments,
of which 33 were correct. Of these trials, 55 were made with the
agent and percipient in different rooms, so that the successes in the
same room were 31 out of 71. Practically, since collusion seems
fairly excluded, the only recourse of the doubter here is to say that
the series were too short and that farther experimentation would
have reduced the success to the chance-number. And here is
where the force of so many other successful series, longer or shorter,
comes in. They make the reader feel as if the dice must be in some
way loaded ; and to the force that loads them Mr. Podmore and his
colleagues have given a name, that, namely, of telepathy, in lieu of
a theory about it. — It is clear that many series of guesses with more
successes than the probability due to chance can yield, will not posi-
tively prove that chance may not have produced the result after all;
and it is still clearer that such statistics are no guide as to what the

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 69

positive force may be. And here the other phenomena gone over
by Mr. Podmore come in to give some feeble help. But they run into
a mass of details ill adapted for synopsis, so with this brief notice I
conclude.

Report on the Census of Hallucinations. H. SIDGWICK, A. JOHNSON,
F. W. H. MYERS, F. PODMORE, E. M. SIDGWICK. Proceedings
of the Society of Psychical Research. Part XXVI. Aug., 1894.
Vol. X., pp. 25-422.

This extraordinarily thorough and accurate piece of work is
understood to be the fruit mainly of Mrs. Sidgwick's labors; and
the present reviewer, who has had a little experience of his own with
the 'Census,' and knows something of its difficulties, may be
allowed to pay his tribute of admiration to the energy and skill
with which that lady and the other members of the committee have
executed their burdensome task. They collected no fewer than
17,000 answers to the question: have you had, when awake, etc., an
hallucination, etc. Of these answers 2,272 were 'yes,' and these
Yes-cases were corresponded with or interviewed or in other ways
subjected to as critical a scrutiny as circumstances allowed. The re-
sult is an unusually careful handling of the raw material offered, and
a great accession of new facts. The census of hallucination was, as
is well known, an idea of the late Edmund Gurney, who thought that
the theory of chance-coincidence applied to 'apparitions' reported
as occurring on the day of death of the person appearing might be
tested by statistics. Gurney himself collected 5705 answers, and,
applying statistical reasoning to them, thought it superabundantly
proved that the 'veridical' cases amongst them were too frequent to
be due to chance. The Sidgwick report, unlike that of Herr Parish,
keeps the Gurney question well to the front, and its general discus-
sion of the physiological and other conditions of the hallucinatory
process is less erudite and elaborate than that of the German writer.
I will quote immediately the conclusions of the report as to ap-
paritions at the time of death. "We have 30 death-coincidences in
1300 cases [of visual hallucination of recognized living persons] or
about i in 43. But chance would .... produce death-coinci-
dences at the rate of i in 19,000 apparitions of recognized living
persons, and i in 43 is equivalent to about 440 in 19,000, or 440 times
the most probable number. Or, looking at the matter in a different
way, we should expect that if death-coincidences only occur by
chance, it will require 30 times 19,000, or 570,000 apparitions of liv-
ing persons to produce 30 such coincidences We eon-

70 REPORT ON THE CENSUS OF HALLUCINA TIONS.

elude then that the number of death-coincidences in our collection,
if our estimate of them is accepted as fair, is not due to chance.
This will not be maintained by anyone with the most elementary ac-
quaintance with the doctrine of chances. The opponent of a tele-
pathic or other supernormal explanation must take one of three
•other lines of argument, . . . even one death-coincidence being
more than we should be justified in expecting chance to produce in a
collection ten times the size of ours" (p. 247-8).

Everything in this conclusion depends on the numerical premises
being severally reached in legitimate ways.

In the first place, take the assumption that out of 19,000 appari-
tions of the sort considered, only i should be expected to occur on
the day of death of the person seen. This is based on the mean
death-rate of England. Since in England the mean annual death-
rate at present is 19.15 per 1,000 of population, the mean daily
death-rate must be 365 times less, or i in about 19,000. All daily
operations concerning persons, if not directly contingent upon their
death, would under these conditions be more likely to strike the
living than the dying in the proportion of 19,000 to i, and this no
matter how frequent or infrequent absolutely such operations should
prove to be. Apparitions are operations concerning persons; and
whether such apparitions be as frequent as dreams, or whether they
be very rare, whether a large fraction or a small fraction of the
population be visited by them, we should expect (if they be due to
mere chance) always to find this proportion observed, that only
iflooo of them should be of people who were dying on the day when
their apparition took place. [This 'day' is measured in the report
by the 12 hours preceding and the 12 hours following the death.]
To the present writer this reasoning and computation seem valid.1

1 In particular does the contention of Herr Parish (see the article on him, above,
ad finent) seems inadmissible. He says that in estimating the probability that appari-
tions at the time of death are due to something more than chance we ought to measure
their frequency by the ratio of their number to that of the aggregate of all phantasms
of whatsoever description. He would even include illusions, since the process of
illusion and hallucination are for him fundamentally the same. To base an argument
on the ratio between the number of veridical death-apparitions and that of merely all
apparitions of recognized living persons ; he says, is a petitio principii. The point is
a subtle one, and may well make one momentarily hesitate, but reflection leaves no
permanent doubt. We have three orders of frequency in hallucinations to consider, that
of hallucinations at large, that of hallucinations of persons, and that of hallucinations
of dying persons. These may be caused by their respective objects, or may come at
'random,' their causes lying exclusively in the subjective cycle. The point is to see
whether anything in the frequency itself can help us to decide which of these alterna-
tives is the true one. Now with what frequency in outer things might these frequencies

PS YCHOLOGICAL LITER A TURE. 7 1

Next, how are the numbers 1,300, for the whole number of
visual apparitions of recognized living persons, and 30 for the coin-
cidental ones among them, established ? Neither of these numbers
is that of the crude face of the census-returns, each being a number
estimated by applying certain corrections to those returns, the cor-
rections all being such as to weight the figures in favor of chance-
coincidence as far as this can with any plausibility be done. The
crude returns certainly include an unduly large percentage of coin-
cidental apparitions, partly because a large number of non-coinci-
dental ones are speedily forgotten and do not figure in the returns,
and partly because, of the coincidental ones, some are likely to have
been put in by careless collectors on account of that character, and
not to have simply turned up in the census-taking by due process of
chance. Now can any definite estimate be made of the amount of
error that has crept into the census from these sources ? The
authors of the report find, by comparing the dates of the returns,
that cases are the more frequent the more recent they are. This
proves a forgetfulness increasing with antiquity. The obvious remedy
would be, ascertaining what recent period could be taken as trust-
worthy, to find out how many hallucinations had visited the
persons figuring in the census during that time, and then to treat

in hallucinations keep tally in the two cases, of outer causation and of no outer causa-
tion respectively ? Obviously if persons do not cause hallucinations of themselves,
the hallucinations of persons should be no more frequent among hallucinations than
persons are frequent among all the things that may become objects of hallucinations ;
whilst on the contrary, if persons, and persons alone, do cause hallucinations, then
hallucinations of persons should be relatively more frequent than other hallucinations,
because the causation by the real outer object would be simply added, for this class alone,
to the random inner causes that produce hallucinations in general. Similarly if the deaths
of persons do not tend to cause hallucinations of those persons, the hallucinations of
the dying should be no more frequent among hallucinations of persons than the dying
themselves are frequent among persons ; whilst if on the contrary the dying, and the
dying alone among persons, do cause hallucinations of themselves, then these hallu-
cinations should be more frequent among hallucinations of persons than the dying are
among the whole population of persons. This latter ratio is what the Sidgwick com-
mittee finds realized in fact ; hence its conclusion that the dying do cause halluci-
nations of themselves. Herr Parish's selection of the total number of hallucinations
iiberhaupt as one subjective term of comparison leads to a statistical test which is also
true in theory, provided the corresponding objective terms be altered to match. We
shall then have (if dying persons do not cause hallucinations of themselves) this propor-
tion : As is the ratio of real dying persons to all other real things, so at its highest
should be the ratio of hallucinations of the dying to all other hallucinations whatso-
ever. But although there is no theoretic objection to this proportion, it is practically
worthless, because we have no statistical data by which to compute the ratio of dying
persons to all other real things.

72 REPOR T ON THE CENSUS OF HALL UCINA TINOS,

the earlier part of their lives as if, in spite of their yielding smaller
'returns,' they must really have included as large a number, pro-
portionally, of similar experiences. Taking the past 3 months as
the trustworthy period, and considering visual cases alone, the
authors of the report agree that the face-returns should be multiplied
by 4, in order to represent the true number of 'apparitions' seen by
their informants. But, as the total number of specifically described
apparitions of recognized living persons returned in the census equals
350, and 350x4=1,400, the round number of 1,300 may be taken as
probably near the figure sought.1

The whole number of death-coincidences amongst the 350 cases
in question is 65, or 62 when 3 cases known to be selected by their
collectors are struck out. There is no ground for supposing that
death-coincidences tend to be forgotten by their percipients : On
the contrary the cases appearing in the census date with dispropor-
tionate frequency from by-gone decades. This, of course, may be
due to the fact that the number 62 is too small to give true aver-
ages when distributed over the 36 years covered. But to be on the
side of severity the committee assume that the proportion reported
from the last decade is the only normal one, and that the earlier
stories may be false, and (by a computation based on figures which need
not here be reproduced) they knock off 22 on this account from the
total of death-apparitions to be used, and make it 40 instead of 62,.
just the opposite treatment to that which they applied to the gross
group of 350 cases of which these death-cases are a part. From these
40 they again knock off 8 as an ample allowance for possibly unre-
ported selection on the collector's part2, and again 2 for good
measure and as a sop to the adversary, so that finally the reduced
number of 'veridicals' to be compared with the augmented number
of veridicals and non-veridicals taken together, falls to the figure 30
which is used in the conclusion quoted from the report on a previous
page.

1The period of three months is found trustworthy when 'suspicious* cases are
eliminated. Suspicious cases are those where the appearance may not have been an
hallucination. Figures seen in a bad light, or through an open door in passing, or at
a distance in the open air, are included in this category. Study of the cases reported
to have occurred within three months of the accounts given, shows that these ' sus-
picious' ones are rarest in the first month, and are therefore presumably peculiarly
liable to oblivescence. But if they are counted in, one month and not three months
becomes the trustworthy period, and the multiplier of the crude returns must then be
changed from 4 to (>j4. The influence of this counting of suspicious cases is con-
siderably to enlarge the total of hallucinations to be supposed, and to make the odds in
favor of the coincidental ones being due to something else than chance sink from 440
to 292 against I.

"The data for computing this number of 8 are given on p. 243 of the report.

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 73

The reader will appreciate the candor of the committee, and see
how earnestly they have sought to eliminate all that might add
specious color, as distinguished from real weight, to their own
side. The reader whom their argument does not impress will have,
they say, to take one of three courses. He may deny the accuracy
of the coincidental cases, to which the reply of the committee con-
sists in printing 31 good ones as a sample. He may still insist
that the collectors have loaded their returns with an excessive num-
ber of these cases, to which the reply is too minute for quotation
here (pp. 57 and 210 of the Report) but amounts to a detailed proof
that there is probably no overloading of the returns in general with
yeses, and to good reason shown for the opinion that of the 62 coin-
cidental apparitions taken as a basis for the enquiry, at most 10 can
be assumed as possibly added deliberately by the collectors to their
returns. But these have been eliminated in the reduced number of
30, finally admitted to count in the argument. — Thirdly the objector
may say that many of the veridical apparitions are causally connected
with the death, but not by telepathy or any other vis occulla. The
illness of an aged person is the cause both of death and of anxiety
among relatives. Anxiety is proved by the committee's own facts
to predispose to hallucination 1 ; so both the hallucination in such
cases and the death can be common effects of a single natural
cause, the illness, working on two persons. This, it will be remem-
bered, is Parish's final objection, mentioned above ; and the report
treats it as important. At the same time the authors point out that
there are but 23 cases of the 62 veridicals in which the illness was
known beforehand, and only in some of these was there anxiety.
Moreover the close coincidence in hour of the death with the appa-
rition in so many cases seems to preclude the application on a large
scale of a cause like anxiety which in the nature of things must have
lasted many hours or days.2

1 Anxiety about illness was probably present in 89 out of the 1622 cases of which
there are first-hand accounts, and grief about death in 42 of the other cases, making
nearly 1-12 of the whole number. As we don't spend 1-12 of our lives in grief and
anxiety of these sorts it must be that during these emotions hallucinations come with
undue frequency.

2 Mere expectation, which often causes illusions, seems to play no important part
in causing hallucinations. At least the committee find only 14 cases in the whole col-
lection where the phantasm was of a person for whose arrival the percipient was look-
ing out. They give cases where ' suggestion ' may be reckoned a cause (collective
cases, prediction of apparition at spiritist seance, etc.), but these are ambiguous, and
if occult agency be once admitted as a possibility, are perhaps as likely to be caused by
that as by ' suggestion '.

74 REPORT ON THE CENSUS OF HALLUCINA TIONS.

It will thus be seen that the committee have considered on their
own account all the difficulties urged by Herr Parish (with the excep-
tion of the 'pseudo-presentiment ' hypothesis of Royce) and that they
have considered them in a more objective and less conjectural way
than he, without their case being weakened to any certain extent.1
Plainly, though, if the 30 cases left to be used in the argument
could all have been first-class cases (with record of hallucination be-
fore event, no anxiety, etc.) the argument would have been more
convincing. But the successive weedings of the crude number 62
could not be performed selectively so as to accomplish just this re-
sult, and the Census is therefore still too small for knock-down proof
of occult cause. If telepathy be regarded on other grounds as pos-
sible, then these statistics make it extremely probable. Otherwise
they will not convert the disbeliever, who will pooh-pooh the statis-
tical method in toto when it takes 17,000 answers to get 30 good
cases to cipher with, saying that the field is too vast and lean for
profitable reaping, that figures got by applying so many hypothetical
corrections to inaccurate crude data, savor too much of guess-work
to inspire confidence, and that cooked returns are cooked returns,
even though, like these, they be cooked for the safe side, the side
adverse to the conclusion reached by their means.2

This sort of reception by the hard-hearted is inevitable, and it is
useless to ask how strictly logical it may be, for belief follows
psychological and not logical laws. A single veridical hallucination
experienced by one's self or by some friend who tells one all the
circumstances has more influence over the mind than the largest
calculated numerical probability either for or against. I can testify
to this from direct observation. The case will, therefore, still hang

1 The only criticism I can make is that the committee have possibly been too indul-
gent to the cases where the percipient was in bed. His conviction that he was awake
is to be taken with large allowance under these circumstances.

a The figure 4, for example, used as a multiplier of the crude returns in correction
of forget fulness, is reached by this process : out of 87 visual hallucinations reported
for the most recent year, 42 are stated to have occurred within the most recent quarter,
and of these 19 within the most recent month, and 12 within the most recent half-
month ; numbers which correspond approximately to 168, 228, and 288 per annum
instead of 87. But if from the 87 the 'suspicious' cases as described above are elimi-
nated, and the most recent quarter examined, the figures are much more even. There
are 12 suspicious cases in the recent quarter; so that then 30 instead of 42 becomes
the number to be counted in the quarter. Of these the last month shows 12, and the
last half-month 5, numbers which correspond to 120, 144, and 120 per annum
respectively. This looks like distribution by 'natural law,' provided the evenness of
the figures be not accidental. But where such small numbers are involved, how can
one be sure on that point?

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 75

pending before public opinion, in spite of the laborious industry of
Mrs. Sidgwick and her colleagues. Of course if the results of the
American Census, not yet published, should correspond, that will
add retroactive weight. But the most that can be said, so far, in
the opinion of the present writer, is this, that the Sidgwick report
affords a most formidable presumption that veridical hallucinations are
due to something more than chance. Now this means that the
telepathic theory, and whatever other occult theories may offer
themselves, have fairly conquered the right to a patient and re-
spectful hearing before the scientific bar; and no one with any real
conception of what the word ' Science ' means, can fail to realize
the profound issues which such a fact as this may involve.

WILLIAM JAMES.

ETHICAL.

A Study of Ethical Principles. JAMES SETH. New York: Imported
by Charles Scribner's Sons. 1894. Pp. XVI, 460.

The subject is presented in three parts; — (I) an analysis of the
psychological basis of ethical principles, and criticism of the cor-
responding systems; (II) a discussion of the virtues, under the
caption of The Moral Life; and (III) the metaphysical implications
of ethics. In Part I, Prof. Seth criticises Hedonism as unduly em-
phasizing the sentient nature of man on the one hand, and so-called
Rigorism on the other as laying exclusive stress upon man's rational
nature. Each is based upon a partial psychology, and hence incom-
plete and misleading. He would therefore distribute the emphasis,
so that the total personality embracing both sensibility and reason
is regarded as the proper basis of ethical principles. This person-
ality differs from the lower, or animal self-hood of mere individuality
in the power of transcending the entire impulsive and sentient life,
subduing it unto the higher rational self. This power constitutes
the will, and differentiates man from the animal. Following the
epistemological analogy, as the Ego constructs the various data of
sensation through the apperceptive process, forming out of them an
object of knowledge, so in the construction of the moral end out of
the impulses, there is a similar synthesis of the crude data of sensi-
bility. Prof. Seth's ideal, therefore, is self-realization, and his
ethical system he styles Eudaimonism, wishing to restore its original
Aristotelian significance which presented pleasure as * the very
bloom and crown of goodness.' We question the propriety of using

76 A STUDY OF ETHICAL PRINCIPLES.

a word so strongly associated with Hedonism, to characterize a sys-
tem which subordinates the pleasure elements to a superior ideal.
It seems more appropriate to classify Prof. Seth among the following
of Hegel and Green, on account of the prominence of the idea of
self-realization in his scheme. He, however, contends that they
have under-estimated the sharpness of the existing dualism, in affirm-
ing the essential rationality of the life of sensibility; and that the
full force of the antithesis must be appreciated in order to realize
that complete synthesis where inclination and duty are one.

Prof. Seth criticises Rigorism as presenting an abstract formal
law of conduct, which, however, is devoid of any definite content.
But does he himself escape a like imputation ? — inasmuch, as since
his ethical ideal is the realization of self-hood, or personality, the
question naturally arises, what self ? What kind of personality ? It
is the self constituted by the common rational Ego in each individ-
ual. But such an ideal is formal, and as truly lacks a definite con-
tent, so that we are confronted by the old difficulty in a new form.
In Part III, the metaphysical implications of ethics, the author treats
of freedom, God and immortality as necessitated by his doctrine of
personality. Since self is more than the sum total of sensations, it
is so far forth superior to the sensuous stream of consciousness, and
therefore free. Also self seeks a larger environment than Nature,
that is God; whence immortality is naturally deduced. This also
furnishes a supplement to the Kantian theory of Autonomy, inas-
much "as the moral law is the echo within our souls of the voice of
the Eternal, whose offspring we are."

The Kantian Epistemology and Theism. C. WIST AR HODGE. Philadel-
phia, MacCalla & Co., 1894. Pp. 47.

The author criticises Kant's epistemological position, because he
does not follow it out to its logical conclusion. Kant's primary pre-
supposition that all things exist only in relation to self-consciousness
necessitates a second presupposition deducible from it, namely, that
the real is the rational. This is overlooked; and the spirit of Kant's
teaching as well as the logic demands its recognition. Dr. Hodge
contends that the ideas of reason must be more than mere logical
universals; that there is a necessary and vital connection between
knowledge and being within our consciousness, that the activity of
the mind necessitates its universality and reality; that there is a
unity of organic experience, and an objectivity of the categories.
By an acute analysis of Kant's position, he seeks to prove the neces-
sity of these supplementary propositions, especially as throwing light

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. ^^

upon Kant's theistic criticism. He shows that there is need to em-
phasize God's immanence as well as His transcendence. The two
ideas are not mutually exclusive but are realized in one self-conscious
and personal spirit; and Kant's criticism of theistic arguments pro-
ceeds upon the basis of a transcendent Being merely, the mechani-
cally conceived God of Deism. Finality also must be conceived as
an objective fact; and this strengthens the reasonableness of the
theistic position. Moreover the Kantian ethics in relation to theism,
overlooks the fact that the self-revealing spirit can be like us because
we are formed in His image; and if our noumenal self carry with it
a moral ideal, so must God also be conceived as possessed of moral
attributes.

The ^Esthetic Element in Morality and its Place in a Utilitarian Theory of
Morals. FRANK CHAPMAN SHARP. New York, Macmillan &
Co., 1893. Pp. 131.

The problem presented in this work is to determine the place of
beauty of character in the moral world. Dr. Sharp approaches this
problem from two different sides. First as to its origin, he contends
that every attempt to make beauty of character the primary product
of the moral forces is doomed to failure, and he insists that their
original goal is the general happiness according to a utilitarian
criterion of right and wrong. In the elaboration of this, he shows
affinity of thought with Shaftsbury and Hutcheson. From a second
point of view, he discusses the question of values, and reaches the
conclusion that beauty of character is but one of the many sources
of aesthetic emotion, and that its attraction for us is due to the
pleasure it affords, the worth of which is to be measured by the same
scale which we apply to the other emotions. In all this, the author
seems to us to be himself alive to his omission of the idea of obliga-
tion as an essential factor. For he supplements his discussion by an
analysis of the idea of oughtness. This is for him in the main, the
pressure of the accumulated judgments of society upon the individual
consciousness. This overlooks the principle of autonomy; and man's
will then feels obligation only as imposed from without. This is
especially unsatisfactory where Dr. Sharp speaks of the * theological
ought.' He regards God in the same manner as society, or our
fellow men in general, one of the powers without, which expect from
us certain lines of conduct. Such a view makes obligation unreal,
by presenting it as a force both arbitrary and artificial.

JOHN GRIER HIBBEN.

PRINCETON UNIVERSITY.

78 NEUROLOGY.

NEUROLOGY.

Ueber die Histogenese der Korner der Kleinhirnrinde. ERNST LUGARO.
Anatomische Anzeiger, No. 23, 1894.

Recent studies in the development of the nervous system have
brought to light some interesting and curious migrations of nerve
cells. His showed that the neuroblasts arising from germinal cells
about the central canal must migrate to the different parts of gray
matter in which they underwent their further development. The
migration of a spherical cell probably possessing amoeboid powers is
familiar enough from the manner in which the leucocytes travel
through the fixed tissues. But in some way nerve elements, if the
interpretations given are correct, must traverse the tissues even
after their prolongations have been formed.

The paper in question is a research on the granules or small cells
of the cerebellum. On the surface of the developing cerebellum is
a layer of epithelium like cells with one process passing directly
towards the surface and the other more or less in the opposite direc-
tion. These elements shade off by intermediate forms into dineuric
cells, the two neurons of which run parallel with the cortical surface.
Among those lying somewhat deeper, appear dineuric elements from
which a dendritic process has begun to grow away from the surface.
Just as in the case of the dineuric cells of the spinal ganglia, the
neurons come to lie more and more at one side of the cell body ;
finally a stem is formed and this stem lengthens, the cell bodies
sinking deeper into the granular layer. The dendritic processes
appear first as a single conical outgrowth, then become branched,
multiple and shorter, and finally decrease in number with the form-
ation of the characteristic brushes at their termini and become identi-
cal with the cells of the fully developed granular layer, the very long
stem of the neuron passing into the molecular layer and terminating
in the T process now so well known from the studies of Cajal, Kol-
liker and others.

If this is a true history of the development of these granules, the
author is justified in his conclusions: (i) The position of the nerve
cells during embryonic life is not necessarily that which it will finally
hold. (2) The neuron grows not only at its ends but also through-
out its entire length, thus permitting the cell body to wander. (3)
While the neuron undergoes a gradual and progressive development,
the dendritic processes may at some intervening time be better de-
veloped than they are at the end of growth.

The disappearance of the primitive and intermediate forms as the

PS YCHOL OGICAL L ITERA TURE. 79

final form becomes more abundant, is one of the arguments in favor
of the author's view; but there is no escaping the conclusion that
not only the cell-body with its dendrons must then move through
the surrounding substance, but the neuron with its termination also
moves. While therefore the argument in favor of these changes
appears complete, it requires us to admit that the nerve cell with all
its prolongations may, during, growth, sink through the substance of
the cerebellum, like a bullet through a plate of wax.

Although these experiments do not stand alone, nevertheless so
difficult is it to accept this explanation that careful control observa-
tions on displacements due to the enlargement of other nerve struc-
tures should be made before entertaining too seriously the conclu-
sions to which these results apparently point.

Beitrag zur Kentniss der Pathologischen Anatomic der Paralysis agitans
und deren Eeziehungen zu gewissen Nervenkrankheiten des Greisen-
alters. EMIL REDLICH. Jahrbiicher f. Psychiatric, Bd. XII.
Heft 3.

In connection with the changes occurring in the nerve cells in
old age, the observations on the nervous system in paralysis agitans
are of importance. The paper by Ketscher, 1892, on this subject,
indicated that the appearances found in the nervous system of the
aged suffering from paralysis agitans were in kind similar to those
found in persons who, though aged, did not exhibit this disease.
The difference between the appearances in the two sets of cases
were in his opinion mainly one of degree.

In view of Ketscher's publication, Redlich gives his results in a
condensed form, as they are mainly confirmatory, though in part di-
vergent. In paralysis agitans the spinal cord is especially affected,
and in it the lumbar and cervical enlargements are the centres of
greatest change. Here the most marked alterations are in the lat-
eral and dorsal columns where there is a sclerosis with atrophy of
the nerve fibres, vascular changes with the formation of amyloid
bodies, while the cells in the ventral horns and the columns of
Clarke are often so pigmented as to obscure the nucleus. In other
portions of the central and peripheral system similar changes occur,
though they are less intense.

Redlich urges a sharper distinction between the condition of the
central nervous system in uncomplicated old age and those found in
paralysis agitans. He would separate the pathological anatomy in
these latter cases from those of simple senility by the greater changes
in the blood vessels and formation of sclerotic areas due to the in-

80 NEUROLOGY.

crease in the supporting tissues, changes which do not necessarily
accompany the involutionary process in the central system.

Histological changes induced in sympathetic, motor, and sensory nerve-cells
by functional activity. (Preliminary note). GUSTAV MANN. Jour,
of Anat. and Physiol., N. S., Vol. IX., Part I., October, 1894.

Previous to this publication, there have been current two state-
ments concerning the effect of electrical stimuli on the size of nerve-
cells and their nuclei. Hodge, working with weak faradic currents,
applied intermittently, but for a long time, to the sensory spinal
nerves of the frog and cat, found the cells of the spinal ganglia thus
fatigued, to be shrunken. Vas, with stronger stimuli applied for
fifteen minutes to the trunk of the cervical sympathetic of the rab-
bit, found the bodies and the nuclei of the sympathetic cells thereby
swollen.

To the examination of this discrepancy the author has directed
his observations. He repeated Vas' experiments under his condi-
tions, and obtained similar results; a swelling of the cell-body, its
nucleus, and the structures within the nucleus. On examining parts
of the nervous system of a dog after prolonged muscular exercise,
the motor cells in the lumbar region of the cord were found to ex-
hibit the characteristic shrinkage described by Hodge, while cells
from the motor region of the cortex showed swollen bodies and
nuclei.

When the two retinae of a dog were compared, one retina having
been at rest while the other had been stimulated, both results were
obtained within the limits of the same retina; the nuclei of the rods
showing decided shrinkage while those of the middle ganglion-cell
layer were swollen.

These differences lead the author to suggest that activity in nerve
cells is accompanied by an increase in volume, whereas fatigue is as-
sociated with the reverse change. These terms are not happily
chosen, since both apply equally well to the entire series of changes
taking place in the cell. With the commencement of activity, fa-
tigue commences and they continue together as different aspects of
a single process. It would therefore be better to distinguish be-
tween the earlier and later phases of one or the other. In the early
stages of fatigue, associated with enlargement, M. finds that the
cell, and especially the nucleus, become chromophobic, and it is in-
teresting to note that in his study of the mature cells, in the cervical
enlargemenc of the mammalian cord, Kaiser found the chromophobic
cells to have the greater mean diameter.

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 8 1

Like all such matters the histological changes accompanying the
functional activity of nerve cells, becomes more complicated, the
further it is examined, and it is to be hoped, that it will in this
instance be possible to unravel these apparently opposite reactions
without any obfuscation of the main point, due to the neglect of the
mechanical conditions of experiment, or of the full record concern-
ing the species, age, sex and physiological condition of the animals
.employed.

Quelques observations expe'rimentales sur r influence de Vinsomnie absolute.
MARIE DE MANACEINE. (Address made before the International
Medical Congress held at Rome, 1894). Archives italiennes de
Biologic, 1894. T. XXI.

Dogs from 2 to 4 months of age were prevented from sleeping
and the physiological and anatomical effects of this treatment, re-
corded. It appears that, for these animals at least, loss of sleep is
much more detrimental than starvation. Dogs after starving more
than twenty days and having lost more than 50 per cent, of their in-
itial weight, may still recuperate under favorable conditions; but
loss of sleep for four or five days is fatal. The temperature of the
sleepless animal finally falls as much as 8° below the normal, the
reflexes disappear, the red blood corpuscles first diminish in number,
to undergo a final increase during the last two days, when the animal
refuses food.

Fatty degeneration of the tissues was the chief histological
change noted at the post-mortem examination; the blood vessels
often appeared compressed, were surrounded by leucocytes and
there were capillary hemorrhages on the surface of the cerebral
hemispheres, with more extensive ones along the optic pathway;
while the spinal cord appeared abnormally dry and anaemic.

When it is remembered that the central system withstands the
effects of starvation in a most remarkable manner, maintaining
almost its full weight up to the death of the animal, the great dis-
turbance following a few days' loss of sleep is very impressive.

Zur Kenntniss der Veranderungen des Riickenmarkes beim Menschen nach
Extremitdtenamputationen. A. GRIGORIEW. Zeitschr. f. Heilk.
1894. Bd. XV.

The physiological conditions on which a mature nerve cell de-
pends for its healthy maintenance are complicated. Most important
are the supply of nutritive substance ; the regular alternation of ac-

82

NEUROLQGY.

tivity with repose and anatomical completeness; but the essential
feature in each one of these conditions is far from clear.

G. has examined the spinal cord in the five cases of amputation,
two at the upper arm, two at the thigh, one below the knee. The
last lesion was but a year old when examined, and the cord showed
no changes. In the other four cases there was an atrophy on the
corresponding side of the cord, noticeable earliest in the dorsal roots
and dorsal columns, later in the cells of the ventral horns. The
degree of the atrophy increased with the age of the lesion and was
accompanied by some degeneration. These results are mainly con-
firmatory of previous observations. On attempting to analyze them
it will be readily seen how complex they are.

In these cases both the sensory and motor elements have lost
portions of their neurons without an opportunity to regenerate them.
The sensory elements have been deprived of the major number of
stimuli coming to them under normal conditions, and have thus failed
to send the usual impulses on to the cord. The motor elements
have been crippled by the loss of their peripheral outgrowths and
allowed to become torpid by disuse. There are, to be sure, other
impulses coming to these cells, in addition to those arriving by their
associated dorsal roots, and they must, for some time at least, retain
the power to discharge along their efferent prolongations. To ex-
plain this atrophy in the cord after amputation, it will therefore be
necessary to learn what atrophic changes occur, when either root, a
dorsal or ventral, alone is cut and for what period after operation
the cell bodies continue to send out impulses.

Note on the Degenerations following Double Transverse, Longitudinal, and
Anterior Cornual Lesions of the Spinal Cord. ALBERT S. GRUN-
BAUM. Journ. of Physiology, Vol. XVI.

On isolating by double transverse section about three spinal seg-
ments in the lower thoracic region of the cord of a monkey, it was
found that there followed a very complete degeneration of the dorsal
columns, and in the remaining columns a sharply defined peripheral
band marking out the distribution of the long tracts at the circum-
ference. The degeneration increased with time, being greater at
the end of the six months than at the end of one. After this lesion
the included anterior root fibres do not show degeneration, indicat-
ing that they rise within the limits of the portion isolated, but when
the ventral cornu of one side has been destroyed, some degenerated
fibres are to be found in the opposite ventral root (observations on
cats). A longitudinal mesal section of the cord was made (also on

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 83

cats) with the result of an ascending degeneration just external to
the dorsal roots, and another at the ventral border of the cerebeliar
tract. This latter is explained as due to the section of fibres cross-
ing in the anterior commissure, while the former is attributed to in-
jury of the columns of Clarke.

Report of the Versammlung deutscher Naturforscher und Aerzte in
Wien vom 24-30 September, 1894; Section fur Psychiatric nnd
Neurologie. Neurologisches Centralblatt, No. 20. 1894.

From the reports of a number of papers of neurological interest,
given at the Vienna meeting of the German Society of Naturalists
and Physicians, the following abstracts are taken :

Ueber die topographischen BezieJmngen zwischcn Retina, Optictis, und
gekreutzen Tractus beim Kaninschen. A. PICK.

From the destruction of limited areas in the retina, and the study
of the subsequent degeneration, it appears that the affected fibres
occupy in the cross section of the opticus or tractus a position cor-
responding to that of the injury in the retina. No allusion is made
to facts bearing on the bundle of uncrossed optic fibres, though there
is reason to think that in the rabbit this is connected with the lateral
portions of the retina.

Die Sinnesorgane und die Ganglien bei Anencephalie und Amyelie. O. v.
LEONOWA.

In a foetus of eight months in which the medullary tube was lack-
ing, the author had previously shown the presence and moderate
development of the sensory system. In this new case, also a foetus
of eight months, anencephalic and amyelic, the nervous system con-
sisted of the retina and of spinal and sympathetic ganglia, with the
nerves arising from them. A portion of these nerves could be fol-
lowed into the muscles. The spinal ganglia were not completely
separated from one another, but the dorsal roots had been formed
and, except in the cervical region, these roots ran cephalad. The
nerve cells were complete; some of the fibres medullated, but
in the so-called retina there were no nerve cells, neither were
there any fibres in the optic stalk. The independent development
of the sensory system, the sympathetic being associated with it, the
distribution of sensory nerves to the muscles, and the normal devel-
opment of the musculatur, are the striking features of this case. The
last fact is very interesting, for in normal persons the severance of
the ventral roots from the muscles leads to degenerative changes in

84 NEUROLOGY.

the latter, and the fact that the muscles can develop without such a
nerve supply is most remarkable.

Ueber die feinere Anatomic und die physiologische Bcdeutung des sympa-
thischen Nervensystem. v. KOLLIKER.

The medullation of sympathetic fibres is very irregular, and they
exhibit every combination which can occur. K. considers the func-
tions of the sympathetic system partly independent — an expression
not explained — and partly dependent on the central system. The cells
he describes as mononeuric. Those cells with a spiral and straight
fibre give origin only to the latter, while the former originates else-
where and merely terminates on the body of the cell. In the mammals
these sympathetic cells may be multipolar. In this latter case, the
dendrons are pathways for afferent, and the neuron, for the efferent
impulse.

In this view the cells are mainly efferent or motor, while the
afferent impulses, passing first to the medullary centres, are medi-
ated by a few fibres from the dorsal spinal roots. It is not easy to
see how independence can in any sense be granted to this system,
unless the anatomical arrangements for both afferent and efferent
impulses are present in it. It is suggestive to recall, moreover, that
the most probable point of origin for the sympathetic cells is the
same as that which gives rise to the cells of the spinal ganglia,
which are the typical sensory elements. H. H. D.

UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO.

VISION:
OSCILLATIONS IN THE RETINAL PROCESS.

(/) Ueber die nach kurzdauernder Reizung des Sehorgans auftretenden

Nachbilder. CARL HESS. Pfliiger's Archiv. XLIV, 190. 1891.
(2) Ueber Nachbilder. SNELLEN. XXIII. Vers. ophth. Gesellsch. zu

Heidelberg, 1893.
(j) Primare, secunddre und tertidre Netzhautbilder nach momentanen

Lichteindriicken. H. P. BOSCHA. Arch. f. Ophth. XL, (i), 22-42,

1894.

(4) Studien uber Nachbilder. CARL HESS. Arch f. Ophth. XL, (2),

259-279, 1894.

(5) On the Recurrent Images following Visual Impressions. SHELFORD
BIDWELL, Proc. Roy. Soc. LVI., June 7, 1894.

Of these several papers on after-images, the last is the most im-
portant. The experiments of Mr. Bidwell (like those of Hess in his

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 85

second communication) concern the phenomena which arise when
bright colorless or colored objects are made to move rather rapidly be-
fore the eye in an otherwise dark room. Hess used small glow lamps
of .5 cm diameter at a distance of about half a meter from the eye,
covered with glass of different colors. Bidwell found colored glasses
quite inadequate to his purpose, and hence made use of homogene-
ous light, obtained by a high pressure oxyhydrogen light, a bisul-
phide of carbon prism, a screen with a slit in it, and a mirror which
rotated about a non-perpendicular axis and so caused the portions of
the spectrum reflected from it to describe a circle upon a second
screen. With various modifications of this apparatus he obtained a
complicated series of sensations which will be best borne in mind if
we reproduce his diagram :

LIGHT ON.

LIGHT OUT.

1
1

s

J-

8
&

A

II

! ' "•

H

-

if"; _

\ i a

Xs

/^^

C L

I/ N

R P

Immediately upon the impact of the light there is experienced a
sensation of luminosity, the intensity of which increases for about
one-sixtieth of a second. Then follows suddenly a sensation of
darkness, lasting also for about one-sixtieth of a second ; this is the
now well-known Charpentier oscillation. Several slight waves fol-
low this, and then there is a period of steady luminosity, which,
however, is much less intense than the first instantaneous maximum.
Upon shutting off the external light, a sensation of diminishing
brightness continues fora brief interval, and is followed by a "sud-
den and clearly-defined sensation of what may be called abnormal
darkness — darker than common darkness — which lasts for about
one-sixtieth of a second, " and is followed by another interval of
ordinary darkness (N). Finally there occurs another transient im-
pression of luminosity, generally violet-colored (R). This is the Re-
current Image, which is the special subject of this paper. The re-
current image is followed by what the author speaks of sometimes
as a period of steady darkness — " after which the uniformity of the
darkness remains undisturbed " (p. 143) — but at other times he re-

85 VISION.

fer& to it as a phosphorescent trail, the color of which cannot be
determined, but which is with some observers "so intense that the
recurrent image cannot be distinguished from it at all." This whole
period (R and P) is what observers in general put under the head of
the positive after-image; it has almost always been supposed to be
continuous with the original sensation, and its color (which accord-
ing to all observers is most persistently a reddish violet) is what
Helmholtz describes as farbiges Abklingen des positiven Nachbildes, a
term which will no longer be appropriate. The fact that the positive
after-image is preceded by a negative phase (N) has recently been
made plain by Hess (i), who points out that it has been wholly over-
looked by Helmholtz, Aubert and Fick; it had, however, been dis-
tinctly described by Purkinje, whose works are still a store-house
of facts which await a sufficiently careful observer to be rediscov-
ered. Bidwell, strangely enough, wrote in ignorance of this paper
of Hess, and Hess was also unaware that the interval of darkness
which interrupts the positive image had already been studied by
Prof. C. A. Young and by Mr. A. S. Davis (Phil. Mag., Vols. 43 and
44, 1872). The fact that when the after-image of the whole spec-
trum is formed, its brightest part is not in the yellow but in the
green (Hess and Bidwell) will doubtless be found to connect itself
with the fact that the green is the brightest part of the spectrum
when seen in a faint light.

All recent work in vision shows that it becomes more and more
necessary to distinguish between the specific sensation (color) and the
absolute sensation (brightness) produced by objective light, and in
particular the terms positive and negative as applied to after-images
are very misleading unless farther particularized, for an image may
be positive in one respect at the same time that it is negative in the
other. It is, for instance, on account of this ambiguity, an almost
hopeless task to endeavor to compare the phases of the after-image
as described in the five papers whose titles are given above. In
order to secure comprehension and at the same time to avoid the
use of such complicated phrases as "an after-image which is com-
plementary to the original one in color but of corresponding bright-
ness," I would propose, in the absence of a less awkward terminol-
ogy, the following; co-color, as an abbreviation for complementary
color; self -color for a revival of the same color, and the same pre-
fixes for the phases of brightness. Thus we should have:
co-color — -- co-brightness ....

after-image,
self-color ^1 -^-self-brightness. . .

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 8/

for the four possible descriptions of after-image, and for the above
long phrase we should substitute the co-color self-brightness image.

Boscha (3), following out the preliminary work of Snellen and in
his laboratory, used an electric spark in a dark room to illuminate
colored papers. His secondary stage is one of co-color and self-
brightness, and it is followed, after a pause, by an image which is
always of a peculiar reddish color difficult to define. He makes a
number of criticisms upon the work of Hess in (i), which are shown
in (4) to be based upon misconceptions. The dark interval preced-
ing his secondary stage he seems to have quite overlooked. The
conclusion of the whole matter is that there are numerous oscilla-
tions in the chemical process which is set up in the retina by light,
whose farther more detailed study may be expected, perhaps, to
throw additional light upon rival theories.

COLOR BLINDNESS.

(1) Physiologische Analyse eines ungewohnlichen Falles partieller Farben-
blindheit. II. M. v. VINTSCHGAU. Pfliiger's Archiv, LVII. 191-
307.

(2) Ueber einen Fall von Gelb-Blaublindheit. Ew. HERING. Pfl. Arch.
LVII. 308-332.

Prof. Langley has lately been so fortunate as to be able to per-
fect his methods for the determination of the cold lines in the infra-
red part of the spectrum to such an extent that work which it
formerly took him a year to finish he can now do in a fraction of a
day, and he has already laid down 2,000 lines with far greater
accuracy than he could otherwise have obtained them with at the
•end of a hundred years. A somewhat similar change has been
effected in our power to determine the exact nature of a given case
of color blindness by Prof. Konig's latest form of the Helmholtz
color-mixing apparatus, or spectro-photometer for colors (an im-
provement even over the instrument exhibited at the Chicago Fair),
when manipulated with all the precautions and the corrections which
.are made use of in Konig's laboratory. If v. Vintschgau had been
willing to make use of this method, he might have described his case
of dichromasie not in one hundred and sixteen pages, but in three,
one of which would have contained two diagrams, one giving the
patient's brightness curve through the spectrum, and the other giv-
ing the curves for his two color sensations, as deduced by the rela-
tive amount of the two end-sensations necessary to match in tone
and brightness all the intermediate parts of the spectrum. This

88 COLOR BLINDNESS.

simple information we seek in vain in v. Vintschgau's pages, but we
have instead endless series of experiments with colored paper, glass,
and wools, which all belong to a previous period of color-blindness
investigation, and which simply repeat the result obtained by his-
spectrophotometer, — namely, that the patient lacks the sensations
blue and yellow, as in a typical case of blue-blindness, and that he
has a slightly diminished sensibility for the colors that remain to
him, for the short-wave end of the spectrum rather more than for
the long-wave end. This is hardly enough to make the case ' un-
usual,' and Hering refers to it simply as a case ; the adjective in
v. Vintschgau's title is, in fact, simply a survival from his first com-
munication, when he had convinced himself, also by an immense
number of experiments, that his patient could see yellow, which
would indeed have been an anomaly. This mistake he was led into
by paying attention to the names which his patient used for his sen-
sations. How wholly unjustifiable this is was pointed out by Dr.
William Pole, himself partially color-blind, in an article of most re-
markable logical acumen, in which the writer wholly anticipated the
facts in regard to color-blindness which have only with the last few
years gained acceptance (Trans. Roy. Soc., 1858). The violet end of
the spectrum gives this individual no color-sensation when looked at
directly (2), but it has been possible to prove indirectly, and in three
different ways, that he has here a sensation of red ; (a) a little of
this light when added to a red which is too faint to be distinguished
causes a plain sensation of red; (b) it forms a colorless mixture with
green, and (c) it gives a distinct green as a contrast-color. This
fact that a color too faint to be perceived may yet cause its proper
contrast effect to be very distinct is already known, and is beauti-
fully exhibited in the experiments with a projection lantern of Rol-
let (Pfl. Arch. XL. 25, 1892,) the most brilliant yet made in the
subject of contrast.

The necessity of paying no attention to what the patient says
that he sees, but only to his color equations, is now pretty well
recognized, and Hering himself (but not v. Vintschgau, p. 205) dis-
tinctly insists upon it. Nevertheless, in calling the two color-sensa-
tions of the person here investigated red and green, Hering (and v.
Vintschgau as well) overlooks this precaution, and at the same time
assumes the correctness of his own theory, which the case is sup-
posed to support. All that we know is that this patient has some
distinguishable color-sensation along the spectrum as far as A 596,
and again another sensation from A. 574 to A 481. If Hering1 s theory
is correct, this latter sensation is green; upon the Helmholtz theory, as

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 89

held by its present defenders (and upon any three-color theory), it
is blue-green; the whole bearing of the case upon existing theories
depends upon whether this color (the complement to the fundamen-
tal red of both theories) is properly named green or blue-green; in
other words, it has no bearing at all upon them. Konig has very
recently had several most interesting cases of monocular blue-blind-
ness circumscribed within a small area surrounding the fovea, in
which the sensation given by the cold end of the spectrum can be
readily compared with normal sensations, and is found to be blue-
green. This fact is still, of course, not decisive between theories,
for what Hering means by green is a color which is pronounced to
be blue-green by the ordinary consciousness, and this in spite of the
fact that it is precisely for the satisfaction of the ordinary conscious-
ness as regards color-sensation that Hering's theory has been devised.

C. LADD FRANKLIN.

SENSATIONS OF TASTE.

Contributions to the Physiological Psychology of the Sense of Taste. FRIED-
RICH KIESOW. Abstract of papers in Philosophische Studien, Bd.
X, Heft 3, pp. 329 ff ; Heft 4, pp. 523 ff.

The electric, metallic and alkaline tastes being reserved for
special investigations, the present work treats only of those sensa-
tions recognised as special qualities, viz., sweet, sour, salt and bit-
ter. The taste-substances used were: chlornatr., muriatic acid,
sacch. alb., sacch., quin. sulph., and quin. pur. In all cases
in which chemical combination of the substances was to be strictly
avoided quin. sulph. and not quin. pur. was used. The greatest pos-
sible chemical purity was sought for these substances, which were
dissolved in distilled water. The application was made partly by
means of dropping-glass tubes on which a scale graduated by
•j^j- cm. was engraved, partly by means of soft pointed hair brushes.
All disturbing accompanying sensations, not excepting that of tem-
perature, were excluded. The simplest way to accomplish the last
was to raise the fluids to be applied to the temperature of the mouth,
viz. 37° C. Between the separate experiments the mouth was rinsed
out with pure water of the same temperature, 37° C. After having
trained the subjects, I first examined the cavity of the mouth, with
a view to determining what parts were receptive of sensations of
taste. These experiments were performed both on children and on
adults. Taking into consideration what former investigators have
found out the total results of this chapter will be given.

go SENSATIONS OF TASTE.

1. Besides the whole surface of the tongue together with its base
and the under surface of its tip — the hard and soft palate, without
doubt the arcus glosso-palatinus, the tonsils, the uvula, the isthmus
fancium, the inside of the epiglottis and the mucous membrane of
the cheeks participate in the sensation of taste.

2. All these parts are sensitive in childhood; in adults the mucous
membrane of the cheeks, the middle of the tongue and, with a few
exceptions, the hard palate lose their sensitiveness. In some cases
the under surface of the tip of the tongue on both sides of the frenu-
lum remains receptive also in adults.

3. The presence of disturbance is accounted for, sometimes by
an affection of the cavity of the tympanum, sometimes by individual
differences.

It must be remarked that the perceptive faculty of the inner
epiglottis was established by Michelson and Langendorff,1 that of
the mucous membrane of the cheeks in childhood by Urbantschitsch. *
Concerning the retrogression of certain taste surfaces in adults I
must refer the reader to my longer article in which an explanation
according to the theory of development is offered and literary refer-
ences given.

In a further investigation I tested the sensitiveness of the differ-
ent perceptive parts of the cavity of the mouth, by taking as
measure the absolute given for the different qualities of taste, ob-
taining in this way the following general results:

i. Sensitiveness varies for the different qualities on the different
parts of the tongue. Sweet is tasted best on the tip of the tongue,
sour on the edge, and bitter at the base, acid equally on the tip and
edges, but less at the base.

2. With regard to the values found in an isolated case for the
other taste-surfaces, the sensitiveness for sweet and bitter appears in
the following order: Soft palate, arcus glosso-palatin., uvula, under-
surface of the tip; for sour, arcus glosso-palat., palat. molle, uvula,
under-surface of the tip; for salt, palatum molle, under-surface of
the tip, arcus glosso-pal., uvula. The values are in part considerably
below those noted under i. Only on the soft palate does salt reach
the normal given.

3. A single investigation showed that in childhood all parts, ex-
cepting the tip and edges of the tongue, possessed nearly the same

1 Centralblatt f ttr Physiol. 1892. P. 204.

2 Urbantschitsch, Beobochtungen iiber Anomalien des Geschmacks, etc., in Forge
von Erkrankungen der Taukcnhdhlc. 1876. — I desire to draw special attention to this
interesting work.

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 9!

sensitiveness with regard to sweet. The tip and edges were more
sensitive.

4. The explanation of the normal condition, as of individual dif-
ferences is without doubt to be found in the law of adaptation, except-
ing those cases in which pathological causes, obstructions, etc.,
appear.

Further, attention was directed to the qualitative conditions of the
sensations of taste. These experiments were only made on adults.
First, I was enabled to prove that all four above-named qualities
are true sensations of taste, also that the sensations of sour and salt
must not be excluded from the sphere of taste on account of the
accompanying tactile sensations. On the contrary, my investiga-
tions led to the conclusion that all our perceptions of taste are ac-
companied by tactile sensations, although in different degrees.
Sweet is accompanied on and near the limen by a sensation of
smoothness, at higher intensity by that of slipperiness, at very great
intensity by that of scratching and biting. The liminal values of
bitter are accompanied by a distinct sensation of greasiness. Even
the application of distilled water produced with some of my subjects
a distinct perception of taste. Two of them tasted water on the tip
of the tongue as sweet, on the edges as sour and sourish, at the
base bitter. Others tasted it as bitter in the whole cavity of the
mouth, others only bitter at the base and tasteless on the other
parts of the tongue. The bitter sensation produced by distilled
water accompanied the single sensation called forth by taste — sub-
stances often for a time above the limen, so that in this way two
sensations arose which I have designated as double-sensations.
Even a mechanical stimulus of the base of the tongue with a glass-
rod produced with me and with many of my subjects a sensation
distinctly bitter.

Great influence in the region of taste must be ascribed to asso-
ciation and the effects of contrast. The conditions of contrast I
investigated with special care; the total results of which maybe
given concisely as follows:

1. Contrasting stimuli must be recognized in the sense of taste.

2. Salt contrasts with sweet, salt with sour, sweet with sour.

3. Salt and sweet, and salt and sour contrast both on simultane-
ous stimulation of corresponding parts of the tongue and on succes-
sive stimulation of the same taste-surface. The contrasts of sweet
and sour could only be observed in the latter case.

4. Bitter forms an exception, but yet perhaps gives rise to con-
trasts restricted to individuals. THE AUTHOR.

LEIPZIG.

92 EXPERIMENTAL.

EXPERIMENTAL.

Psychologic des grands calculateurs et joueurs d' tehees. A. BINET. Paris,

Hachette. 1894. Pp. VIII, 364.
Travaux du Laboratoire de psychologic physiologique de hautes-ttudes a la

Sorbonne. BEAUNIS, BINET and others. Anne"e, 1892; pp. 100;

annee, 1893; pp. 58. Paris, Alcan. 1893-4.

Travaux du Laboratoire de psychologic physiologique pendant I'anne'e 1892—
1893. A. BINET and others. Rev. Philos. XXXVII, 111-119,.
222-240 and 344-3S2. 1894,

The first two numbers of M. Beaunis' Annual, (Travaux du
Laboratoire,} indicate the main lines of research that have been fol-
lowed thus far in the new psychological laboratory at Paris, of which
M. Binet is the leading spirit. Several of the studies appear also, as
preliminary reports, in the pages of the Revue Philosophique. The
investigations can be grouped for the most part under two general
heads, audition colorte and memory; the latter are incorporated in M.
Binet' s work on Great Calculators and Chess Players,

M. Binet was able to secure two noted calculators and test their
powers and methods at some length. One of them, M. Inaudi, was
distinctly of the auditory type, preferring to receive his data orally;
when required to start with written numbers, he always repeated
them to himself, before proceeding with the problem. The other,.
M. Diamandi, a Greek, was quite as markedly of the visual type.
M. Binet devotes a chapter of his work to some tests made on
these two, together with a distinguished prestidigitator, M. Ar-
nould, to determine their comparative facility in memorizing and
repeating numbers. M. Arnould's method is to associate each
numeral with a certain consonant; by adding vowels at will, he
transforms any given number into some word or phrase, which he
readily memorizes; when called on he simply translates this back
into the number. M. Inaudi could memorize the most rapidly of the
three up to a hundred figures, (36 in im 30", 75 in 5m 30", 100 in
i2m.), which was as far as he was tested. As between MM. Dia-
mandi and Arnould, the former learned the first few figures some-
what more quickly, but from 25 places on the latter had a decided
advantage; (D: 10 in 17", 25 in 3m, 50 in 7m, 100 in 25m; A: 10
in 20", 25 in 2m 30", 50 in 2m. 45", 100 in i5m). The two 'direct'
memorizers nere compensated, however, by being able to repeat what
they had learned much more rapidly than M. Arnould. The investi-
gation is particularly interesting in view of the dispute as to the

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 93

value of mnemonics. It would be interesting to test also the com-
parative durability of the several kinds of memory by experiments
similar to those of Ebbinghaus. M. Inaudi was able to repeat 230
numerals that he had learned on the preceding day, but the experi-
ment was not followed out; it seems probable that M. Arnould would
have been able to retain many times that number. (Mnemonic
memorizing, which relies on mediating associations, might be called
the associative type, to distinguish it from the auditive and visual,
where the correlation is immediate.) — M. Binet endeavors to account
for the rapidity with which MM. Inaudi and Diamandi perform com-
plicated mathematical operations, in a number of ways, (i) By the
use of various devices which simplify the problem. (2) By an ex-
tension of the multiplication table to products of two place numbers.
(3) By the aid of unconscious mental processes: just as we uncon-
sciously adopt results in multiplication, from the memorized table,
so one accustomed to calculating might come upon results intuitively,
which he would require a long and tedious operation to reach, if
every step had to be formulated. Proceeding mechanically or half-
consciously, he would not need to use words or symbols to indicate
the operations; this abbreviation would in itself shorten the time con-
siderably, and M. Binet agrees with Scripture in emphasizing its
importance in the 'shorthand' of calculation, even if the process be
wholly conscious and voluntary.

The second part of M. Binet's work treats of blind-fold chess-
playing. By means of a questionnaire and personal letters, he obtained
from a large number of players more or less complete analyses of
their methods of procedure. According to this testimony, there
are three principal requisites for success: (i) Familiarity with the
game, through practice and study; especially a knowledge of the best
line of play for various positions, in order to save time and thought.
This is far more essential here than in play over the board. (2)
Memory, in order to retain the moves already played or the position
of the pieces at a given time. (3) Power of visualization. This last
is the distinguishing feature of blind-fold playing. In some players
it takes a very concrete form : they seem to see the squares, dark and
light alternately, and the pieces upon them more or less distinctly.
In other cases it is rather more symbolic — abstract, as M. Binet terms
it; the player sees only part of the board at a time, and represents
in a vague way the pieces and their positions; but he works by means
of the potency of the pieces, — an idea, rational rather than visual, of
what each one can do from its given position. In addition to this
there is in some cases a verbal memory; /. e., an auditory memory of

94 RECOGNITION AND ASSOCIATION.

the names of the squares and moves; a great many players repeat
the moves in a low tone of voice, to re-enforce the visual memory-
image.

A different phase of memory from those treated in this book, is
taken up in a study of the visual memory of children; 225 school-
children, from 9 to 13 years of age, being examined in groups of
four. They were shown a line, and afterwards asked to reproduce it,
or pick out one of similar length from a set. Three standard lengths,
16, 40, and 68 mm., were used. M. Binet does not mention the lapse
of time between the original presentation and the choice or attempted
reproduction (10 to 15 min. ?), nor the differences in length of the
lines given to choose from in the second place. The absence of
these data prevents us from comparing his results with those of a
somewhat similar investigation recently conducted at Princeton,
(using squares, however, instead of lines), which will be reported in
a succeeding number of this REVIEW.

Among the laboratory studies are several on audition colore'e. M.
Binet and his colleagues examined a number of persons subject to
this phenomenon, in order to determine the rapidity with which they
associate the color with the word or vowel. So far as they go, the
figures seem to show that this peculiar color association is not more
rapid than other kinds of association; M. Binet shows by experiments
on himself, that one who has not colored audition may learn a set of
associations between vowels and colors so thoroughly, as to be able
to call up the proper one in each case, and may do so even more
rapidly than those who make the association naturally.
PRINCETON. H. C. WARREN.

RECOGNITION AND ASSOCIATION.

Assimilation and Association. (I and II). JAMES WARD. Mind, N.
S., II, p. 347, July, 1893, and III, p. 509, October, 1894.

By assimilation, Dr. Ward means the recognition, or as he pre-
fers to say, the cognition, involved in perception, that is, what
Hoffding names unmittelbares Wiedererkennen. His central position is
the assertion that assimilation, in this sense, so far from being iden-
tical with association or explained by it, is really the necessary pre-
supposition of association, which is obviously between recognized
objects of consciousness. The most important part of the discussion
is the vigorous criticism of the view that assimilation is really a case
of 'association by contiguity ' and that, accordingly, an object seems
familiar through the presence of faint representations, Nebenvorstel-

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 95

lungen of events or objects, formerly connected with the familiar one.
Dr. Ward's objections to this theory are based largely on physi-
ological considerations. From Miiller, Siemerling and others, he
quotes cases of cerebral disturbance, in which " visual memory
images are for the most part retained, so that old scenes can be
recalled and familiar objects or persons accurately described, and
yet the recognition of them is no longer possible, when such persons
or objects are actually present." Dr. Ward insists, perhaps without
sufficiently considering the possibility that apparent concrete visual
memory-images may really be verbal images, that such cases would
be impossible if sense-percept and sense-image were exactly the
same. Hence he denies that "the seat of the ideas is the same as
the seat of the sensations," though "of course," he adds; "it is not
likely that there will be any wide separation .... both might even
belong to the same convolution, though possibly to different layers
of its cortex." Facts of brain change, especially the "evidence of
the gradual maturing of the cerebral projection-system and of its
priority to the association-tracts " are adduced to prove the physio-
logical possibility of assimilation, when association is impossible. In
his positive treatment of assimilation, Dr. Ward gives, as he says,
'no precise answer to the question,' but this is natural, for his ten-
dency is to regard assimilation as an ultimate, and therefore unan-
alyzable, aspect of conscious activity. Assimilation is consciousness
of familiarity, and the interesting parallel between cognitive famili-
arity and motor facility, or habit, suggests, at the outset, that the
nature of familiarity "is to be formed rather in the subjective than
in the objective constituents of consciousness." Quite in conson-
ance with this premonitory remark, assimilation is, in the end, allied
with attention of a 'spontaneous, selective and concentrated form,'
and described as a form 'of subject activity and interest.'

The most curious feature of the essay, is Dr. Ward's persuasion
that his theory is 'in the main' in agreement with Hoffding's. In
contending that such immediate recognition does exist, without
necessarily involving contiguous association, both authors of course
agree. But Hoffding expressly makes the identification, justly repu-
diated by Ward, of assimilation with 'association by similarity; ' and
in the details of his theory, even in the later, modified form of it, he
either, as Ward admits, "lays dangerous stress on the physiological
effects of mere repetition," or offers a psycho-mechanical explana-
tion differing inherently from Ward's emphatic insistence upon the
preeminently subjective nature of assimilation.

MARY WHITON CALKINS.

96 LOGICAL.

LOGICAL.

History and Natural Science. W. WINDELBAND. Inaugural Address
as Rector. Strassburg, May, 1894.

The current division of the experiential sciences into natural
sciences and sciences of mind is unfortunate. Psychology does not
fall exclusively in either class. For while as regards its object of
study it is a 'science of mind,' its method is that of the natural
sciences, viz., that of seeking laws of processes, whereas most of the
' Geisteswissenschaften ' seek to set forth some single event or pro-
cess in its historic relations. A better division from a purely metho-
dological point of view would be into natural and historical sciences.
The former seek universal laws, the latter seek particular historical
facts. The goal of the former is the general apodictic judgment, of
the latter the singular assertory proposition. The former may be
called nomothetic, the latter idiographic^ bearing in mind that the same
material may often be considered from either point of view. Logic
has always been under the influence of the nomothetic thought forms.
It has centered its investigation about the universal judgment, and
as regards the actual procedure of science to-day we have devoted
far more attention to the theory of experimentation than to the
parallel problems of historical methodology.

The results of these diverse methods are widely differing struc-
tures. History presents a world of living, concrete individuals;
science leaves out all that is individual and constructs her mathe-
matical formulations of the laws of motion, her world of atoms
colorless and soundless. This at once suggests the question as to
the respective values of the two results, especially as regards their
influence on our views of the world and of life. Every object or fact
has value in proportion as it contributes to a universal. The par-
ticular may fulfil this function, however, not only by being subsumed
under a general concept but also by forming a significant constituent
of a concrete whole. Man is preeminently interested in the indi-
vidual and unique, especially in the sphere of personality. But on
the other hand the idiographic sciences which portray this must
employ general principles furnished by the nomothetic.

These two moments of human thought cannot be reduced to one.
Causal explanation of historical events might seem to indicate a pos-
sibility of completely explaining the particular from universal laws,
and so Leibnitz thought that ultimately all ve'rite's de fait had their
grounds in the ve'rite's dternelles. But he could only postulate this for
the divine thought, not carry it out for human intelligence. This

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 97

' irreducibility ' may be illustrated by the fact that every event may
be regarded as the conclusion of a syllogism requiring two premises, —
one, the major, a natural law, the other the minor, an actual ante-
cedent in time. Hence the individual can never be completely ex-
plained, /. e., reduced to general laws. This is illustrated by the
impossibility of a complete analysis of personality by general cate-
gories, where the irreducible element appears to us as the feeling of
the causelessness of our own nature, *. e., individual freedom.

J. H. TUFTS.
UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO.

The Conception of Infinity. SHADWORTH H. HODGSON. Proceedings
of the Aristotelian Society, Vol. II., No. 3, Part i.

It is impossible to analyze and criticise satisfactorily in so brief a
space as is contained in the limits of this review, Mr. Hodgson's
interesting and closely reasoned paper on infinity. I can only give
the outline of his argument and indicate what seem to me its strong
and its weak points.

The term infinity, Mr. Hodgson maintains, signifies an attribute
and not a substance. Since all attributes qualify the substance to
which they belong, infinity must be a quality of the thing to which
it belongs. But though infinity is thus a quality, it is, so to speak,
a quantitative quality. In the wider sense of the word it is a quality but
not in the narrower. All quantitative determinations of things are
qualitative, in the broader sense of the term. There must, then,
be something an essential quality of which is quantitative, making it
capable of quantification.

The two senses in which the word quality may be used may be
brought out in an illustration : we may distinguish in the experience
we call a rose : (i) Certain specific feelings such as color, odor,
etc. (2) Certain properties which are its quantitative elements,
and (3) The fact that certain constituents of these two classes are
combined in a particular way at a particular time — the ' existential '
element.

The second class, or the quantitative constituents of the exper-
ience, are the source of our having the perception or the idea of
quantity at all. There are two constituents of this class, time-dura-
tion and space-extension. Every content of consciousness must
contain a constituent of class (i) and of class (2). The constituents
of class (2) may be called the formal element of consciousness.
This formal element alone is immediately and essentially capable of
quantification, and is the source of all our knowledge of quantity.

98 LOGICAL.

Feeling is only quantifiable indirectly, in virtue of its occupying
time, or both space and time.

Since, therefore, infinity is a quantitative quality, it is to time
and space alone that it must in the last resort attach, if it exists at
all ; and time and space are those entities or substances or things
whose essential quality is to be quantifiable.

But looking at the panorama of our experience where we will, we
find that divisions between feelings, or between feeling and absence
of feeling, are always divisions which fall within time or space, never
beyond them, i. e., they are limits beyond which there are space and
time again, whether this space or time beyond the limit is or is not
occupied by a specific feeling or content. In other words space and
time in their entirety are wholly limitless and inexhaustible.

Infinity is a fact of perception, observed alike in the minima and
in the maxima of perception. Our perception of infinity must be
carefully distinguished from our conception of infinity, — the latter
being a single finite item in a whole hierarchy of similar concep-
tions. Our perception of the infinity of space and time is a fact of
experience.

If what precedes be true, then we cannot but conceive the uni-
verse as infinitely extended. We perceive time and space to be
infinite, and as the formal element of consciousness is inseparable
from its material co-element ('quality' in the narrower sense), we
must conceive existence as extending commensurably with time and
space, beyond the boundaries of existence as positively known by
us. Time and space, beyond the bounds of any content positively
known to us, must be combined with some co-element or other, for
it is only as a co-element that we know them.

The universe as positively known or knowable is a world of mat-
ter. The unseen world may be immaterial, and faith lays hold
upon it, thus satisfying the demands of the moral nature, which
positive knowledge leaves unsatisfied. This is the triumph of the
Practical Reason, on the field upon which the Speculative has met
with defeat.

Such is Mr. Hodgson's argument. I have given it only in
abstract and I have eliminated certain portions, but I have not
broken the chain of his reasonings. His analysis of consciousness
into its formal and material elements is, I think, clear and masterly.
His style is simple and without ornament, — -a great virtue in a
philosophical writer. His conclusion does not. appear to me to be
proved.

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 99

I shall not enter into a general discussion of the infinity and in-
finite divisibility of space and time, though I think his arguments
to prove these are not above reproach, but I shall confine myself to
pointing out that consistency would rob him of his world of faith,
and shut him up to the world of matter, or such part of it as comes
within experience.

He has said that the infinity of time and space are given in ex-
perience. Time and space, however, are, as he has also maintained,
given in experience only as co-elements, — they are inseparable from
the material elements of experience. It would surely seem to follow
that if the infinity of time and space are perceptual facts, the infinity
of the world in time and space must be a perceptual fact too. Can
we have an experience consisting of a certain limited quantity of
'form* and 'matter' combined, and, extending infinitely beyond
that, an experience which consists of but the one element, the
formal ? Are pure space and pure time without any material filling
given in perception ? If they can be, a world beyond the limits of
the known world, a world of faith, cannot be assumed to fill the
void, for the void can be conceived as unfilled,— no co-element is
necessary. If, on the other hand, a co-element be really necessary,
we cannot perceive time and space to be infinite, without at the
same time perceiving that which fills them to be infinite, for they
cannot be experienced alone.

Now Mr. Hodgson holds that the universe is not positively
known to us as infinite. Its infinity is not a perceptual fact. Must
we not thence conclude that the infinity of time and space, the
formal element in experience, is also not positively known to us ?
Co-elements must be co-extensive, if they are really inseparable.

Mr. Hodgson must either hold that the formal element may be
divorced from the material, in which case he cannot assume the
existence of an unknown world to fill void time and space ; or that
it can not, in which case he must admit that, if we positively know
time and space to be infinite, we also positively know the existent
world to be infinite. This makes an argument for its existence un-
necessary, and rubs out the line between the worlds of knowledge
and of faith.

I do not believe Mr. Hodgson can get his conclusion without
blowing both hot and cold in his premises. He has certainly done
so in this argument.

UNIVERSITY OF PENNSYLVANIA, G. S. F.

ANTHRQPOLOG Y.

r Abstraction et son role dons V education intellectuelle. QUEYRAT. Paris,
Alcan, 1894. Pp. 144.

This is a popular statement of classical ideas on abstraction,
ideas to which the author has added, in order to rejuvenate them,
many quotations borrowed from contemporary psychologists. The
book merits neither praise nor blame ; it may be useful to persons
entirely unacquainted with psychology. It should serve to confirm
others in the idea that those who make science are the ones who
should take the trouble to popularize it. A. B.

SORBONNE, PARIS.

ANTHROPOLOGY.

Memoirs of the International Congress of Anthropology. Edited by C.
STANILAND WAKE. Chicago, 1894. Pp. 375.

The prompt appearance of this volume (it was issued last spring)
and the handsome style of its manufacture secure for it the first
words of commendation, and they will certainly not be the last.

At the International Congress, of which it is the record, anthro-
pology was interpreted in its widest sense as the science of man, in
all directions of his development, physical and psychical. An effort
was made to consider the history of the species as an aggregate,
and to lay down the principles for its scientific analysis. The sepa-
rate branches considered were physical anthropology, archaeology,
ethnology, folk-lore, religions and linguistics, and in the published
volume two or more papers are given on each of these divisions.

While all of them are meritorious, a few deserve special mention
on account of the extent of new observations, the results of which
they present. In Dr. Franz Boas' article 'The Anthropology of
the North American Indian,' and in that of Dr. Gerald M. West on
'The Anthropometry of American School Children,' we have con-
densed statements of the many thousand measurements undertaken
by the Department of Ethnology of the Columbian Exposition. For
the first time positive data of wide provenance are supplied in the
two branches named.

Another paper replete with new facts is that on 'Primitive
Scales and Rhythms,' by Prof. John C. Fillmore. It is a study of
the musical powers of the American Indian by one deeply versed in
the theory of the art.

Mr. Mercer gives an account of the discovery by himself of a
flaked flint in ancient quaternary gravels in Spain; and Prof. O. T.
Mason contributes an interesting study on aboriginal American

PS YCHOLOGICAL LITER A TURE. I O I

mechanics. Mrs. S. W. Stevenson illustrates a phase of primitive
thought by tracing an ancient Egyptian rite; and Miss Alice C.
Fletcher presents some Omaha love songs, showing that this senti-
ment is also one of those which are primitive. Two of the articles
are in German, which is quite appropriate in an 'international'
volume.

It is to be regetted that psychology proper did not find a place
among the subjects discussed, or at least not among the papers
printed. The science of anthropology is not a science when psy-
chology is omitted, and the sooner its commanding position in the
study of man is recognized the more rapid will be the progress of a
sound knowledge of the species. D. G. BRINTON.

UNIVERSITY OF PENNSYLVANIA.

EDUCATIONAL AND CHILD PSYCHOLOGY.

The Proceedings of the International Congress of Education of the
World's Columbian Exhibition. Held in Chicago, July 25-28,
1893. New York, National Educational Association, 1894.
Pp. XVIII. + 1005.

The extended series of volumes representing the proceedings of
the National Educational Association since its formation, in 1857, is
certainly one of the dreariest collections of pedagogical words and
phrases to be found in our language. The volumes will in no way
stand comparison with the proceedings of the American Institute
of Instruction. The present thick volume of more than a thousand
pages goes far, however, toward redeeming the whole series. It
gives an encyclopedic view of the educational theories of to-day as
presented by some thousands of representative men and women from
all over the world in a three days' educational congress. It is not
generally understood that there were in Chicago during the summer
of 1893 two educational congresses meeting in the same rooms on
successive weeks, and each divided into a score of sections covering
essentially the same ground. The first congress, July lyth to 25th,
was under the direction of the Woman's Branch of the World's
Congress Auxiliary, and its proceedings have never been published.
The second congress was under the direction of the National Edu-
cational Association, July 25th to 28th, and the present volume gives
most of the papers presented, with brief notes on the discussions.

One is struck in reading this volume, as in reading all the teach-
ers' literature of the day, with the fact that hardly any of the papers
deal with what has been, or with what is ; they all struggle with the

I O2 ED UCA TIONAL AND CHILD PS YCHOLOG Y.

question : What ought to be? The exceptions are to be found in the
papers of some of the foreign delegates who describe work actually
being done in their own countries, and in the work of the psychologi-
cal sections. It would seem that on a great historical occasion like
that which drew the congresses together it might have been expected
that some effort would be made to gather up the results of our past
pedagogic experience, and then from the historical point of view
forecast the probable future. There are very few papers written
from this point of view, but most of the discussions are purely theo-
retical.

The work of the section in Rational Psychology fills some thirty
pages, and includes studies by such representative men as Dr. Mc-
Cosh, Prof. Royce and President Schurman. Cynics who charge us
pedagogues with being men of narrow intellectual interests will find
sufficient breadth of view in this section to reverse the charge.

Of most interest to readers of this review will be the seventy
pages devoted to the work of the Congress of Experimental Psy-
chology in Education. Two years before, at its meeting in Toronto,
in 1891, the N. E. A. had given some attention to this line of study
through two round-table conferences, presided over by G. Stanley
Hall, though they were not recognized as a part of the regular associa-
tion work. Again, in 1892, at Saratoga, two round-table meetings
dealt with experimental psychology, but the meeting in Chicago was
really the first great educational meeting in America where any con-
siderable time was set aside for the direct study of the original stuff
with which all educational theory deals. The papers at Chicago
present special studies on physical development, stuttering, imagina-
tion in childhood, children's language, children's theology, eye and
ear-mindedness, the psychology of reading and spelling, reports on
work being done in different parts of the world, with several more
general studies showing the relation of this sort of work to educa-
tional theory and practice. Such well-known men are represented
as G. Stanley Hall, Wm. Burnham, James Sully, E. M. Hartwell,
Francis Warner, and Wm. Bryan. There is no other single place
where so much material has been brought together bearing on the
study of children as in this volume, with the exception of the files of
the Pedagogical Seminary.

The volume must prove to be a valuable and permanent reference
book for students interested in educational theory and the beginnings
of educational psychology. EARL BARNES.

STANFORD UNIVERSITY.

NEW BOOKS. 103

NEW BOOKS.

Lehrbuch der Psychologic. W. VOLKMANN. Vierte Auf., Bd. I.

Cothen, Schulze, 1894. Pp. vii -f 511.
Peregrinazioni psicologiche. TR. VIGNOLI. Milan, Hoepli, 1895.

Pp. 404-

Filosofia morale. L. FRISO. Milan, Hoepli, 1893. Pp. xii -f 33 5«
From the Greeks to Darwin. H. F. OSBORN. New York, Macmillan

& Co., and London, 1894. Pp. x -f 259-
Lectures on Human and Animal Psychology. W. WUNDT. Translated

from the second German edition by E. Creighton and E. B.

Titchener. London, Swan, Sonnenschein & Co. ; New York,

Macmillan & Co., 1894. Pp. x -f- 454.
Saggio di una scala normale del pensiero astratto. S. DE CRESCENTO.

Naples, d'Auria, 1893. Pp. 27.
Principii di logica reale. N. R. D' ALFONSO. Rome, Paravia, 1894.

Pp. 7i.
Genie und Entartung : eine psychologische Studie. W. HIRSCH. Berlin u.

Leipzig, Coblenz, 1894.
Zur Analyse des Apperceptionsbegriffs. J. KODIS. Berlin, Calvary,

1893. Pp. 202.

Introduction to Comparative Psychology. C. LLOYD MORGAN. Con-
temporary Science Series. London, Walter Scott ; New York,
imported by Charles Scribner's Sons, 1894. Pp. xiv, 382.

Enhvurf zu einer physiologischen Erklarung der psychischen Erscheinungen.
I. Thl. SIGM. EXNER. Vienna, Deuticke, 1894. Pp. viii -f
380.

Studies from the Yale Psychological Laboratory. II. Edited by ED-
WARD W. SCRIPTURE. New Haven, Conn., Yale University,

1894. Pp. 124. $i.

La logique sociale. G. TARDE. Paris, Alcan, 1894. 7 fr. 50.
Me'moire et imagination. LUCIEN ARRE"AT. Paris, Alcan, 1894.

2 fr. 50.
Les e'tats intellectuels dans la me'lancolie. G. DUMAS. Paris, Alcan,

1895. Pp. 144. 2 fr. 50.

Les lots psychologiques de Involution des peuples. G. LE BON. Paris,
Alcan, 1894. 2 fr. 50.

104 NOTES.

NOTES.

Ex-President James McCosh of Princeton College died in Prince-
ton on Nov. 1 6.

Professor O. Kiilpe has been called from Leipzig to the Univer-
sity of Wurzburg.

Professor Sorley has been called to the University of Aberdeen.

The publication is announced of Prof. Ribot's lectures at the
College de France. The volumes, of which there will probably be
three, are now in press for early issue.

Mr. A. H. Lloyd has been made Acting Assistant Professor of
Philosophy, and given charge of the department for the year, in the
University of Michigan. Mr. J. Bigham, Ph.D. (Harvard), and
Mr. Geo. Rebec, Ph.B. (Michigan), have been appointed instructors
in the same institution, the former to direct the work of the psycholo-
gical laboratory.

Dr. W. R. Newbold has been appointed Assistant Professor of
Philosophy in the University of Pennsylvania.

Dr. S. Mezes has been appointed Professor of Philosophy in the
University of Texas.

Dr. Margaret Washburn has been appointed Professor of Philoso-
phy and Psychology in Wells College.

Dr. W. B. Elkin has been appointed Professor of Philosophy in
Colgate University.

VOL. II. No. 2. MARCH, 1895.

THE PSYCHOLOGICAL REVIEW.

THE KNOWING OF THINGS TOGETHER.1

BY PROFESSOR WILLIAM JAMES,

Harvard University*

1.

The nature of the synthetic unity of consciousness is one
of those great underlying problems that divide the psycholo-
gical schools. We know, say, a dozen things singly through
a dozen different mental states. But on another occasion
we may know the same dozen things together through a
single mental state. The problem is as to the relation of
the previous many states to the later one state. In physical
nature, it is universally agreed, a multitude of facts always
remain the multitude they were and appear as one fact only
when a mind comes upon the scene and so views them, as
when H-O-H appear as « water ' to a human spectator.
But when, instead of extramental 'things,' the mind com-
bines its own « contents ' into a unity, what happens is much
less plain.

The matters of fact that give the trouble are among our
most familiar experiences. We know a lot of friends and
•can think of each one singly. But we can also think of
them together, as composing a ' party ' at our house. We
can see single stars appearing in succession between the
clouds on a stormy night, but we can also see whole con-
stellations of those stars at once when the wind has blown
the clouds away. In a glass of lemonade we can taste both

1 Read as the President's Address before the American Psychological Association
at Princeton, December, 1894, and reprinted with some unimportant omissions, a few
slight revisions, and the addition of some explanatory notes.

105

106 WILLIAM JAMES.

the lemon and the sugar at once. In a major chord our ear
can single out the c, e, g, and cr, if it has once become
acquainted with these notes apart. And so on through the
whole field of our experience, whether conceptual or sensi-
ble. Neither common sense nor commonplace psychology
finds anything special to explain in these facts. Common
sense simply says the mind 'Brings the things together,'
and common psychology says the ' ideas ' of the various
things « combine,' and at most will admit that the occasions
on which ideas combine may be made the subject of inquiry.
But to formulate the phenomenon of knowing things to-
gether thus as a combining of ideas, is already to foist in a
theory about the phenomenon simply. Not so should a
question be approached. The phenomenon offers itself, in
the first instance, as that of knowing things together ; and it
is in those terms that its solution must, in the first instance
at least, be sought.

'Things,' then; to 'know' things; and to know the
4 same ' things « together ' which elsewhere we knew singly
— here, indeed, are terms concerning each of which we must
put the question, ' What do we mean by it when we use
it?' — that question that Shad worth Hodgson lays so much
stress on, and that is so well taught to students, as the
beginning of all sound method, by our colleague Fullerton.
And in exactly ascertaining what we do mean by such terms
there might lie a lifetime of occupation.

For we do mean something; and we mean something
true. Our terms, whatever confusion they may connote,
denote at least a fundamental fact of our experience, whose
existence no one here present will deny.

II.

What, then, do we mean by ' things' ? To this question
I can only make the answer of the idealistic philosophy.
For the philosophy that began with Berkeley, and has led
up in our tongue to Shadworth Hodgson, things have no
other nature than thoughts have, and we know of no things
that are not given to somebody's experience. When I see

THE KNOWING OF THINGS TOGETHER. IO/

the thing white paper before my eyes, the nature of the
thing and the nature of my sensations are one. Even if
with science we supposed a molecular architecture beneath
the smooth whiteness of the paper, that architecture itself
could only be defined as the stuff of a farther possible expe-
rience, a vision, say, of certain vibrating particles with
which our acquaintance with the paper would terminate if
it were prolonged by magnifying artifices not yet known.
A thing may be my phenomenon or some one else's; it may
be frequently or infrequently experienced ; it may be shared
by all of us ; one of our copies of it may be regarded as the
original, and the other copies as representatives of that
original; it may appear very differently at different times;
but whatever it be, the stuff of which it is made is thought-
stuff, and whenever we speak of a thing that is out of our
own mind, we either mean nothing; or we mean a thing that
was or will be in our own mind on another occasion ; or,
finally, we mean a thing in the mind of some other possible
receiver of experiences like ours.

Such being 'things,' what do we mean by saying that
we ' know ' them ?

There are two ways of knowing things, knowing them
immediately or intuitively, and knowing them conceptually
or representatively. Although such things as the white
paper before our eyes can be known intuitively, most of the
things we know, the tigers now in India, for example, or
the scholastic system of philosophy, are known only repre-
sentatively or symbolically.

Suppose, to fix our ideas, that we take first a case of
conceptual knowledge ; and let it be our knowledge of the
tigers in India, as we sit here. Exactly what do we mean
by saying that we here know the tigers ? What is the pre-
cise fact that the cognition so confidently claimed is known-
as, to use Shadworth Hodgson's inelegant but valuable form
of words ?

Most men would answer that what we mean by knowing
the tigers is having them, however absent in body, become
in some way present to our thought; or that our knowledge
of them is known as presence of our thought to them. A
great mystery is usually made of this peculiar presence in

IO8 WILLIAM JAMES.

absence ; and the scholastic philosophy, which is only com-
mon sense grown pedantic, would explain it as a peculiar
kind of existence, called intentional inexistence, of the tigers
in our mind. At the very least, people would say that what
we mean by knowing the tigers is mentally pointing towards
them as we sit here.

But now what do we mean by pointing, in such a case
as this ? What is the pointing known-as, here ?

To this question I shall have to give a very prosaic
answer — one that traverses the prepossessions not only of
common sense and scholasticism, but also those of nearly all
the epistemological writers whom I have ever read. The
answer, made brief, is this: The pointing of our thought
to the tigers is known simply and solely as a procession
of mental associates and motor consequences that follow on
the thought, and that would lead harmoniously, if followed
out, into some ideal or real context, or even into the imme-
diate presence, of the tigers. It is known as our rejection
of a jaguar, if that beast were shown us as a tiger ; as our
assent to a genuine tiger if so shown. It is known as our
ability to utter all sorts of propositions which don't contra-
dict other propositions that are true of the real tigers. It
is even known, if we take the tigers very seriously, as
actions of ours which may terminate in directly intuited
tigers, as they would if we took a voyage to India for the
purpose of tiger-hunting and brought back a lot of skins of
the striped rascals which we had laid low. In all this there
is no self-transcendency in our mental images taken by
themselves. They are one physical fact; the tigers are
another ; and their pointing to the tigers is a perfectly com-
monplace physical relation, if you once grant a connecting
world to be there. In short, the ideas and the tigers are in
themselves as loose and separate, to use Hume's language,
as any two things can be; and pointing means here an
operation as external and adventitious as any that nature
yields.1

1 A stone in one field may ' fit,' we say, a hole in another field. But the relation
of ' fitting,' so long as no one carries the stone to the hole and drops it in, is only one
name for the fact that such an act may happen. Similarly with the knowing of the
tigers here and now. It is only an anticipatory name for a further associative and ter-
•minative process that may occur.

THE KNOWING OF THINGS TOGETHER. 109

I hope you may agree with me now that in representative
knowledge there is no special inner mystery, but only an
outer chain of physical or mental intermediaries connecting
thought and thing. To know an object is here to lead to it
through a context which the world supplies. All this was most
instructively set forth by our colleague Miller, of Bryn
Mawr, at our meeting in New York last Christmas, and for
re-confirming my sometime wavering opinion, I owe him
this acknowledgment.1

Let us next pass on to the case of immediate or intuitive
acquaintance with an object, and let the object be the white
paper before our eyes. The thought-stuff and the thing-
stuff are here' indistinguishably the same in nature, as we
saw a moment since, and there is no context of intermedia-
ries or associates to stand between and separate the thought
and thing. There is no 'presence in absence' here, and no
' pointing,' but rather an allround embracing of the paper by
the thought ; and it is clear that the knowing cannot now be
explained exactly as it was when the tigers were its object.
Dotted all through our experience are states of immediate
acquaintance just like this. Somewhere our belief always
does rest on ultimate data like the whiteness, smoothness,
or squareness of this paper. Whether such qualities be
truly ultimate aspects of being or only provisional supposi-
tions of ours, held-to till we get better informed, is quite
immaterial for our present inquiry. So long as it is believed
in, we see our object face to face. What now do we mean
by ' knowing' such a sort of object as this? For this is also
the way in which we should know the tiger if our concep-
tual idea of him were to terminate by having led us to his
lair?

This address must not become too long, so I must give
my answer in the fewest words. And let me first say this :
So far as the white paper or other ultimate datum of our
experience is considered to enter also into some one else's
experience, and we, in knowing it, are held to know it there
as well as here ; so far again as it is considered to be a mere

1 See also Dr. Miller's article on Truth and Error, in the Philosophical Review,
July, 1893.

IIO

WILLIAM JAMES.

•<mask for hidden molecules that other now impossible expe-
diences of our own might some day lay bare to view ; so far
iit is a case of tigers in India again — the things known being
^absent experiences, the knowing can only consist in passing
smoothly towards them through the intermediary context
that the world supplies. But if our own private vision of
the paper be considered in abstraction from every other
event, as if it constituted by itself the universe (and it might
perfectly well do so, for aught we can understand to the
contrary), then the paper seen and the seeing of it are only
two names for one indivisible fact which, properly named, is
the datum, the phenomenon, or the experience. The paper is in
the mind and the mind is around the paper, because paper
and mind are only two names that are given later to the one
experience, when, taken in a larger world of which it forms
a part, its connections are traced in different directions.1 To
know immediately, then, or intuitively, is for mental content and
object to be identical. This is a very different definition from
that which we gave of representative knowledge ; but neither
definition involves those mysterious notions of self-transcen-
dency and presence in absence which are such essential parts
of the ideas of knowledge, both of common men and of

1 What is meant by this is that ' the experience ' can be referred to either of two
great associative systems, that of the experiencer's mental history, or that of the expe-
rienced facts of the world. Of both of these systems it forms part, and may be
regarded, indeed, as one of their points of intersection. One might let a vertical line

O

O

stand for the mental history ; but the same object, O, appears also in the mental history
of different persons, represented by the other vertical lines. It thus ceases to be the
private property of one experience, and becomes, so to speak, a shared or public thing.
We can track its outer history in this way, and represent it by the horizontal line. [It
is also known representatively at other points of the vertical lines, or intuitively there
again, so that the line of its outer history would have to be looped and wandering, but
I make it straight for simplicity's sake.] In any case, however, it is the same stu/
that figures in all ths sets, of lines.

THE KNO WING OF THINGS TOGE THER. 1 1 1

philosophers. Is there no experience that can justify these
notions, and show us somewhere their original?

I think the mystery of presence in absence (though we
fail to find it between one experience and another remote
experience to which it points, or between the « content ' and
* object* of any one experience falsely rent asunder by the ap-
plication to it of these two separate names) may yet be found,
and found between the parts of a single experience. Let us
look for it, accordingly, in its simplest possible form. What
is the smallest experience in which the mystery remains?
If we seek, we find that there is no datum so small as not to
show the mystery. The smallest effective pulse of conscious-
ness, whatever else it may be consciousness of, is also con-
sciousness of passing time. The tiniest feeling that we can
possibly have involves for future reflection two sub-feelings,
one earlier and the other later, and a sense of their continu-
ous procession. All this has been admirably set forth by
Mr. Shadworth Hodgson,1 who shows that there is literally
no such datum as that of the present moment, and no such
content, and no such object, except as an unreal postulate of
abstract thought. The passing moment is the only thing
that ever concretely was or is or shall be ; and in the phe-
nomenon of elementary memory, whose function is to appre-
hend it, earlier and later are present to each other in an
experience that feels either only on condition of feeling both
together.

We have the same knowing together in the matter that
fills the time. The rush of our thought forward through its
fringes is the everlasting peculiarity of its life. We realize
this life as something always off its balance, something in
transition, something that shoots out of a darkness through a
dawn into a brightness that we know to be the dawn fulfilled.
In the very midst of the alteration our experience comes as
one continuous fact. « Yes,' we say at the moment of full
brightness, this is what I meant. No, we feel at the moment
of the dawning, this is not yet the meaning, there is more
to come. In every crescendo of sensation, in every effort

1 Philosophy of Reflection, Vol. I, p. 248 ff.

112 WILLIAM JAMES.

to recall, in every progress towards the satisfaction of desire,
this succession of an emptiness and fulness that have refer-
ence to each other and are one flesh is the essence of the
phenomenon. In every hindrance of desire the sense of
ideal presence of what is absent in fact, of an absent, in a
word, which the only function of the present is to mean, is
even more notoriously there. And in the movement of
thoughts not ordinarily classed as involving desire, we have
the same phenomenon. When I say Socrates is \mortal, the
moment Socrates is incomplete ; it falls forward through the
is which is pure movement, into the mortal, which is indeed
bare mortal on the tongue, but for the mind, is that mortal,
the mortal Socrates, at last satisfactorily disposed of and
told off.

Here, then, inside of the minimal pulse of experience
which, taken as object, is change of feeling, and, taken as
content, is feeling of change, is realized that absolute and
essential self-transcendency which we swept away as an
illusion when we sought it between a content taken as a
whole and a supposed objective thing outside. Here in the
elementary datum of which both our physical and our men-
tal worlds are built, we find included both the original of
presence in absence and the prototype of that operation of know-
ing many things together which it is our business to discuss }•

1 It seems to me that we have here something like what comes before us in the
psychology of space and time. Our original intuition of space is the single field of
view ; our original intuition of time covers but a few seconds ; yet by an ideal piecing
together and construction we frame the notions of immensity and eternity, and sup-
pose dated events and located things therein, of whose actual intervals we grasp no
distinct idea. So in the case before us. The way in which the constituents of one
undivided datum drag each other in and run into one, saying this is what that means,
gives us our original intuition of what knowing is. That intuition we extend and con-
structively build up into the notion of a vast tissue of knowledge, shed along from
experience to experience until, dropping the intermediary data from our thought, we
assume that terms the most remote still know each other, just after the fashion of the
parts of the prototypal fact. Cognition here is only constructive, as we have already
seen. But he who should say, arguing from its nature here, that it nowhere is direct,
and seek to construct it without an originally given pattern, would be like those psy-
chologists who profess to develop our idea of space out of the association of data that
possess no original extensity. Grant the sort of thing that is meant by presence in
absence, by self-transcendency, by reference to another, by pointing forward or back,
by knowledge in short, somewhere in our experience, be it in ever so small a corner,
and the construction of pseudo-cases elsewhere follows as a matter of course. But to
get along without the real thing anywhere seems difficult indeed.

THE KNOWING OF THINGS TOGETHER. 113

For the fact that past and future are already parts of
the least experience that can really be, is just like what
we find in any other case of an experience whose parts
are many. Most of these experiences are of objects per-
ceived to be simultaneous and not to be immediately suc-
cessive as in the heretofore considered case. The field of
view, the chord of music, the glass of lemonade are exam-
ples. But the gist of the matter is the same — it is always
knowing-together. You cannot separate the consciousness
of one part from that of all the rest. What is given is
pooled and mutual; there is no dark spot, no point of ignor-
ance ; no one fraction is eclipsed from any other's point of
view. Can we account for such a being-known-together
of complex facts like these ?

The general nature of it we can probably never account
for, or tell how such a unity in manyness can be, for it
seems to be the ultimate essence of all experience, and any-
thing less than it apparently cannot be at all. But the
particular conditions whereby we know particular things
together might conceivably be traced, and to that humble
task I beg leave to devote the time that remains.

III.

Let me say forthwith that I have no pretension to give
any positive solution. My sole ambition now is, by a little
classification, to smooth the ground somewhat so that some
of you, more able than I, may be helped to advance, before
our next meeting perhaps, to results that I cannot obtain.

Now, the first thing that strikes us in these complex
cases is that the condition by which one thing may come to
be known together with other things is an event. It is often
an event of the purely physical order. A man walks sud-
denly into my field of view, and forthwith becomes part
of it. I put a drop of cologne-water on my tongue, and,
holding my nostrils, get the taste of it alone, but when I
open my nostrils I get the smell together with the taste in
mutual suffusion. Here it would seem as if a sufficient con-
dition of the knowing of (say) three things together were
the fact that the three several physical conditions of the

1 14 WILLIAM JAMES.

knowing of each of them were realized at once. But in many
other cases we find on the contrary that the physical condi-
tions are realized without the things being known together
at all. When absorbed in experiments with the cologne-
water, for example, the clock may strike, and I not know
that it has struck. But again, some seconds after the stri-
king has elapsed, I may, by a certain shifting of what we call
my attention, hark back to it and resuscitate the sound, and
even count the strokes in memory. The condition of know-
ing the clock's striking is here an event of the mental order
which must be added to the physical event of the striking
before I can know it and the cologne-water at once. Just
so in the field of view I may entirely overlook and fail to
notice even so important an object as a man, until the in-
ward event of altering my attention makes me suddenly see
him with the other objects there. In those curious phe-
nomena of dissociation of consciousness with which recent
studies of hypnotic, hysteric and trance-states have made us
familiar (phenomena which surely throw more new light on
human nature than the work of all the psycho-physical
laboratories put together), the event of hearing a ' sugges-
tion,' or the event of passing into trance or out of it, is what
decides whether a human figure shall appear in the field of
view or disappear, and whether a whole set of memories
shall come before the mind together, along with its other
objects, or be excluded from their company. There is in
fact no possible object, however completely fulfilled may be
the outer condition of its perception, whose entrance into a
given field of consciousness does not depend on the addi-
tional inner event called attention.

Now, it seems to me that this need of a final inner event,
over and above the mere sensorial conditions, quite refutes
and disposes of the associationist theory of the unity of con-
sciousness. By associationist theory, I mean any theory
that says, either implicitly or explicitly, that for a lot of
objects to be known together, it suffices that a lot of con-
scious states, each with one of them as its content, should
exist, as James Mill says, « synchronically.' Synchronical
existence of the ideas does not suffice, as the facts we now

THE KNOWING OF THINGS TOGETHER. 11$

have abundantly show. Gurney's, Binet's and Janet's proofs
of several dissociated consciousnesses existing synchroni-
cally, and dividing the subject's field of knowledge between
them, is the best possible refutation of any such view.

Union in consciousness must be made by something,
must be brought about; and to have perceived this truth is
the great merit of the anti-associationist psychologists.1
The form of unity, they have obstinately said, must be
specially accounted for; and the form of unity the radical
associationists have as obstinately shied away from and
ignored, though their accounts of those preliminary condi-
tions that supply the matters to be united have never been
surpassed. As far as these go, we are all, I trust, associa-
tionists, and reverers of the names of Hartley, Mill, and
Bain.

Let us now rapidly review the chief attempts of the anti-
associationists to fill the gap they discern so well in the
associationist tale.

i. Attention. — Attention, we say, by turning to an object,
includes it with the rest; and the naming of this faculty in
action has by some writers been considered a sufficient
account of the decisive 'event.'2 But it is plain that the
act of Attention itself needs a farther account to be given,
and such an account is what other theories of the event
implicitly give.

We find four main types3 of other theory of how par-

1 In this rapid paper I content myself with arguing from the experimental fact
that something happens over and above the realization of sensorial conditions, wherever
an object adds itself to others already ' before the mind.' I say nothing of the logical
self-contradiction involved in the associationist doctrine that the two facts, ' A is
known,' and 'Bis known,' are the third fact, 'A + B are known together.' Those
•whom the criticisms already extant in print of this strange belief have failed to con-
vince, would not be persuaded, even though one rose from the dead. The appeal to
the actual facts of dissociation may make impression, however, even on such hardened
hearts as theirs.

* It might seem natural to mention Wundt's doctrine of ' Apperception ' here.
But I must confess my inability to say anything about it that would not resolve itself
into a tedious comparison of texts. Being alternately described as intellection, will,
feeling, synthesis, analysis, principle and result, it is too ' protean ' a function to lend
itself to any simplified account at second hand.

8 It is only for the sake of completeness that we need r mention such notions of a
$ort of mechanical and chemical activity between the ideas as we find in Herbart,

Il6 WILLIAM JAMES.

ticular things get known together, a physiological, a psy-
chological, an animistic, and a transcendentalist type. Of
the physiological or ' psycho-physical ' type many varieties
are possible, but it must be observed that none of them pre-
tends to assign anything more than an empirical law. A
psycho-physical theory can couple certain antecedent condi-
tions with their result; but an explanation, in the sense of
an inner reason why the result should have the nature of
one content with many parts instead of some entirely differ-
ent nature, is what a psycho-physical theory cannot give.1

2. Reminiscence. — Now, empirically, we have learned that
things must be known in succession and singly before they
can be known together.2 If A, B, and C, for example, were
outer things that came for the first time and affected our
senses all at once, we should get one content from the lot of
them and make no discriminations. The content would
symbolically point to the objects A, B, C, and eventually
terminate there, but would contain no parts that were
immediately apprehended as standing for A, B, and C
severally. Let A, B, and C stand for pigments, or for
a tone and its overtones, and you will see what I mean
when I say that the first result on consciousness of their
falling together on the eye or ear would be a single new

Steinthal and others. These authors see clearly that mere synchronical existence is
not combination, and attribute to the ideas dynamic influences upon each other ; pres-
sures and resistances according to Herbart, and according to Steinthal ' psychic attrac-
tions.' But the philosophical foundation of such physical theories have been so-
slightly discussed by their authors that it is better to treat them only as rhetorical
metaphors and pass on. Herbart, moreover, must also be mentioned later, along with
the animistic writers.

1 We find this impotence already when we seek the conditions of the passing pulse
of consciousness, which, as we saw, always involves time and change. We account.
for the passing pulse, physiologically, by the overlapping of dying and dawning brain-
processes ; *iand at first sight the elements time and change, involved in both the brain-
processes and their mental result, gives a similarity that, we feel, might be the real
reason for the psycho-physic coupling. But the moment we ask ' metaphysical ' ques-
tions— "Why not each brain-process felt apart? — Why just this amount of time,
neither more nor less?" etc., etc. — we find ourselves falling back on the empirical
view as the only safe one to defend.

2 The latest empirical contribution to this subject, with which I am acquainted, is
Dr. Herbert Nichols' excellent little monograph, 'Our Notions of Number and
Space.' Boston, Ginn & Co., 1894.

THE KNOWING OF THINGS TOGETHER. 1 1/

kind of feeling rather than a feeling with three kinds of
inner part. Such a result has been ascribed to a ' fusion '
of the three feelings of A, B, and C; but there seems no
ground for supposing that, under the conditions assumed,
these distinct feelings have ever been aroused at all. I
should call the phenomenon one of indiscriminate knowing
together, for the most we can say under the circumstances is
that the content resembles somewhat each of the objects
A, B, and C, and knows them each potentially, knows them,
that is, by possibly leading to each smoothly hereafter, as
we know Indian tigers even whilst sitting in this room.

But if our memory possess stored-up images of former
A-s, B-s, and C-s, experienced in isolation, we get an alto-
gether different content, namely, one through which we
know A, B, and C together, and yet know each of them in
discrimination through one of the content's own parts.
This has been called a « colligation ' or Verknupfung of the
' ideas ' of A, B, and C, to distinguish it from the afore-
said fusion. Whatever we may call it, we see that its
physiological condition is more complex than in the pre-
vious case. In both cases the outer objects, A, B, and
C, exert their effects on the sensorium. But in this case
there is a cooperation of higher tracts of memory which
in the former case was absent. Discriminative knowing-
together^ in short, involves higher processes of reminiscence.
Do these give the element of manyness, whilst the lower
sensorial processes that by themselves would result in mere
* fusion,' give the unity to the experience? The sugges-
tion is one that might repay investigation, although it has
against it two pretty solid objections : first, that in man the
consciousness attached to infra-cortical centres is altogether
subliminal, if it exist ; and, second, that in the cortex itself
we have not yet discriminated sensorial from ideational pro-
cesses. Possibly the frontal lobes, in which Wundt has
supposed an Apperceptionsorgan, might serve a turn here.
In any case it is certain that, into our present rough notions
of the cortical functions, the future will have to weave dis-
tinctions at present unknown.

1 1 8 WILLIA M JA MES.

3. Synergy. — The theory that, physiologically, the one-
ness precedes the manyness, may be contrasted with a
theory' that our colleagues Baldwin and Miinsterberg are
at present working out, and which places the condition of
union of many data into one datum, in the fact that the
many pour themselves into one motor discharge. The
motor discharge being the last thing to happen, the condi-
tion of manyness would physiologically here precede and
that of oneness follow. A printed word is apprehended as
one object, at the same time that each letter in it is appre-
hended as one of its parts. Our secretary, Cattell, long ago
discovered that we recognize words of four or five letters
by the eye as quickly, or even more quickly, than we recog-
nize single letters. Recognition means here the motor pro-
cess of articulation ; and the quickness comes from the fact
that all the letters in the particular combination unhesita-
tingly cooperate in the one articulatory act. I suppose
such facts as these to lie at the base of our colleagues'
theories, which probably differ in detail, and which it would
be manifestly unjust to discuss or guess about in advance of
their completer publication. Let me only say that I hope
the latter may not be long delayed.

These are the only types of physiological theory worthy
of mention. I may next pass to what, for brevity's sake,
may be called psychological accounts of the event that lets an
object into consciousness, or, by not occurring, leaves it
out. These accounts start from the fact that what figures
as part of a larger object is often perceived to have relations
to the other parts. Accordingly the event in question is
described as an act of relating thought. It takes two forms.

4. Relating to Self. — Some authors say that nothing can
enter consciousness except on condition that it be related
to the self. Not object, but object-plus-me, is the minimum
knowable.

5. Relating to other Objects. — Others think it enough if
the incoming object be related to the other objects already
there. To fail to appear related is to fail to be known at
all. To appear related is to appear with other objects. If
relations were correlates of special cerebral processes, the

THE KNOWING OF THINGS TOGETHER.

addition of these to the sensorial processes would be the
wished-for event. But brain physiology as yet knows noth-
ing of such special processes, so I have called this explana-
tion purely psychological. There seem to be fatal objec-
tions to it as a universal statement, for the reference to self,
if it exist, must in a host of cases be altogether subcon-
scious ; and introspection assures us that in many half- wak-
ing and half-drunken states the relations between things
that we perceive together may be of the dimmest and most
indefinable kind.

6. The Individual Soul. — So we next proceed to the ani-
mistic account. By this term I mean to cover every sort of
individualistic soul-theory. I will say nothing of older
opinions; but in modern times we have two views of the
way in which the union of a many by a soul occurs. For
Herbart, for example, it occurs because the soul itself is
unity, and all its Selbsterhaltungen are obliged to necessa-
rily share this form. For our colleague Ladd, on the other
hand, to take the best recent example, it occurs because
the soul, which is a real unity indeed, furthermore per-
forms a unifying act on the naturally separate data of sense
— an act, moreover, for which no psycho-physical analo-
gon can be found. It must be admitted that much of the
reigning bias against the soul in so-called scientific circles
is an unintelligent prejudice, traceable far more to a vague
impression that it is a theological superstition than to
exact logical grounds. The soul is an ' entity/ and, indeed,
that worst sort of entity, a 'scholastic entity;' and, more-
over, it is something to be damned or saved ; so let's have no
more of it ! I am free to confess that in my own case the
antipathy to the Soul with which I find myself burdened is
an ancient hardness of heart of which I can frame no fully
satisfactory account even to myself. I passively agree that
if there were Souls that we could use as principles of expla-
nation, the formal settlement of the questions now before us
could run far more smoothly towards its end. I admit that
a soul is a medium of union, and that brain-processes and
ideas, be they never so ' synchronical,' leave all mediating
agency out. Yet, in spite of these concessions, I never find

I2O WILLIAM JAMES.

myself actively taking up the soul, so to speak, and making
it do work in my psychologizing. I speak of myself here
because I am one amongst many, and probably few of us can
give adequate reasons for our dislike. The more honor to
our colleague from Yale, then, that he remains so unequivo-
cally faithful to this unpopular principle ! And let us hope
that his forthcoming book may sweep what is blind in our
hostility away.1

But all is not blind in our hostility. When, for example,
you say that A, B, and C, which are distinct contents on
other occasions, are now on this occasion joined into the
compound content ABC by a unifying act of the soul, you
say little more than that now they are united, unless you
give some hint as to how the soul unites them. When, for
example, the hysteric women which Pierre Janet has studied
with such loving care, go to pieces mentally, and their souls
are unable any longer to connect the data of their experi-
ence together, though these data remain severally conscious
in dissociation, what is the condition on which this inability
of the soul depends ? Is it an impotence in the soul itself ?
or is it an impotence in the physiological conditions, which
fail to stimulate the soul sufficiently to its synthetic task ?
The how supposes on the Soul's part a constitution adequate
to the act. An hypothesis, we are told in the logic-books,
ought to propose a being that has some other constitution
and definition than that of barely performing the phenome-
non it is evoked to explain. When physicists propose the
' ether,' for example, they propose it with a lot of incidental
properties. But the soul proposed to us has no special
properties or constitution of which we are informed. Nev-

1 1 ought, perhaps, to apologize for not expunging from my printed text these
references to Professor Ladd, which were based on the impression left on my mind
by the termination of his Physiological Psychology. It would now appear from the
paper read by him at the Princeton meeting, and his ' Philosophy of Mind,' just pub-
lished, that he disbelieves in the Soul of old-fashioned ontology ; and on looking
again at the P. P., I see that I may well have misinterpreted his deeper mean-
ing there. I incline to suspect, however, that he had himself not fully disentangled it
when that work was written ; and that between now and then his thought has been
evolving somewhat, as Lotze's did, between his ' Medical Psychology ' and his ' Meta-
physic.' It is gratifying to note these converging tendencies in different philosophers ;
but I leave the text as I read it at Princeton, as a mark of what one could say not so
very unnaturally at that date.

THE KNOWING OF THINGS TOGETHER. 121

ertheless, since particular conditions do determine its activ-
ity, it must have a constitution of some sort. In either case,
we ought to know the facts. But the soul-doctrine, as hith-
erto professed, not only doesn't answer such questions, it
doesn't even ask them ; and it must be radically rejuvenated
if it expects to be greeted again as a useful principle in psy-
chological philosophy. Here is work for our spiritualist
colleagues, not only for the coming year, but for the rest of
their lives.1

7. The World-soul. — The second spiritualist theory may
be named as that of transcendentalism. I take it typically
and not as set forth by any single author. Transcendental-
ism explains things by an over-soul of which all separate
souls, sensations, thoughts, and data generally are parts. To
be, as it would be known together with everything else in
the world by this over-soul, is for transcendentalism the true
condition of each single thing, and to pass into this condition
is for things to fulfill their vocation. Such being known
together, since it is the innermost reality of life, cannot on
transcendentalist principles be explained or accounted for
as a work wrought on a previous sort of reality. The
monadic soul-theory starts with separate sensational data,
and must show how they are made one. The transcen-
dentalist theory has rather for its task to show how,
being one, they can spuriously and illusorily be made to
appear separate. The problem for the monadic soul, in
short, is that of unification, and the problem for the over-
soul is that of insulation. The removal of insulating obstruc-

1 The soul can be taken in three ways as a unifying principle. An already exist-
ing lot of animated sensations (or other psychic data) may be simply woven into one
by it ; in which case the form of unity is the soul's only contribution, and the original
stuff of the Many remains in the One as its stuff also. Or, secondly, the resultant
synthetic One may be regarded as an immanent reaction of the Soul on the preexisting
psychic Many ; and in this case the Soul, in addition to creating the new form, repro-
duces in itself the old stuff of the . Many, superseding it for our use, and making
it for us become subliminal, but not suppressing its existence. Or, thirdly, the One
may again be the Soul's immanent reaction on a physiological, not on a mental, Many.
In this case preexisting sensations or ideas would not be there at all, to be either
woven together or superseded. The synthetic One would be a primal psychic datum
with parts, either of which might know the same object that a possible sensation, real-
ized under other physiological conditions, could also know.

122 WILLIAM JAMES.

tions would sufficiently account for things reverting to their
natural place in the over-soul and being known together..
The most natural insulating or individualizing principle to^
invoke is the bodily organism. As the pipes of an organ let
the pressing mass of air escape only in single notes, so do our
brains, the organ pipes of the infinite, keep back everything
but the slender threads of truth to which they may be per-
vious. As they obstruct more, the insulation increases, as-
they obstruct less it disappears. Now transcendental phi-
losophers have as a rule not done much dabbling in psychol-
ogy. But one sees no abstract reason why they might not
go into psychology as fully as any one, and erect a psycho-
physical science of the conditions of more separate and less-
separate cognition which would include all the facts that
psycho-physicists in general might discover. And they would
have the advantage over other psycho-physicists of not need-
ing to explain the nature of the resultant knowing-together
when it should occur, for they could say that they simply
begged it as the ultimate nature of the world.

This is as broad a disjunction as I can make of the different
ways in which men have considered the conditions of our
knowing things together. You will agree with me that I have
brought no new insight to the subject, and that I have only
gossiped to while away this unlucky presidential hour to'
which the constellations doomed me at my birth. But since
gossip we have had to have, let me make the hour more
gossipy still by saying a final word about the position taken
up in my own Principles of Psychology on the general question
before us, a position which, as you doubtless remember, was
so vigorously attacked by our colleague from the University
of Pennsylvania at our meeting in New York a year ago.1
That position consisted in this, that I proposed to simply
eliminate from psychology « considered as a natural science "
the whole business of ascertaining how we come to know
things together or to know them at all. Such considera-
tions, I said, should fall to metaphysics. That we do know

1 Printed as an article entitled ' The Psychological Standpoint,' in this REVIEW,.
Vol. I, p. 113. (March, 1894.)

THE KNOWING OF l^HINGS TOGETHER. 12$

things, sometimes singly and sometimes together, is a fact.
That states of consciousness are the vehicle of the knowl-
edge, and depend on brain states, are two other facts. And
I thought that a natural science of psychology might legiti-
mately confine itself to tracing the functional variations of
these three sorts of fact, and ascertaining and tracing what
determinate bodily states are the condition when the states
of mind know determinate things and groups of things.
Most states of mind can be designated only by naming what
objects they are * thoughts-of,' i. e., what things they know.
Most of those which know compound things are utterly
unique and solitary mental entities demonstrably different
from any collection of simpler states to which the same
objects might be singly known.1 Treat them all as unique in
entity, I said then ; let their complexity reside in their
plural cognitive function ; and you have a psychology which,
if it doesn't ultimately explain the facts, also does not, in ex-

1 When they know conceptually they don't even remotely resemble the simpler
states. When they know intuitively they resemble, sometimes closely, sometimes
distantly, the simpler states. The sour and sweet in lemonade are extremely unlike
the sour and sweet of lemon juice and sugar, singly taken, yet like enough for us to
' recognize ' these ' objects ' in the compound taste. The several objective ' notes '
recognized in the chord sound differently and peculiarly there. In a motley field of
view successive and simultaneous contrast give to each several tint a different hue
and luminosity from that of the ' real ' color into which it turns when viewed without
its neighbors by a rested eye. The difference is sometimes so slight, however, that
we overlook the ' representative ' character of each of the parts of a complex content,
and speak as if the latter were a cluster of the original ' intuitive ' states of mind that,
occurring singly, know the ' object's ' several parts in separation. Prof. Meinong, for
example, even after the true state of things had been admirably set forth by Herr H.
Cornelius (in the Vierteljahrschrift f. wiss. Phil., XVI, 404; XVII, 30), returns to
the defence of the radical associationist view (in the Zeitschrift f. Psychologic, VI,
340, 417). According to him, the single sensations of the several notes lie unaltered in
the chord-sensations ; but his analysis of the phenomenon is vitiated by his non-
recognition of the fact that the same objects (i. e. , the notes) can be known representa-
tively through one compound state of mind, and directly in several simple ones, without
the simple and the compound states having strictly anything in common with each
other. In Meinong's earlier work, Ueber Begriff und Eigenschaften der Empfindung
(Vierteljahrschrift, vol. XII), he seems to me to have hit the truth much better, when
he says that the aspect color, e. g. , in a concrete sensation of red, is not an abstractable
part of the sensation, but an external relation of resemblance between that sensation
and other sensations to the whole lot of which we give the name of colors. Such, I
should say, are the aspects of c , e, g and cf in the chord. We may call them parts of
the chord if we like, but they are not bits of it, identical with c's, e's, g's and </'s else-
where. They simply resemble the c's, is, g's and crs elsewhere, and know these con-
tents or objects representatively.

124 WILLIAM JAMES.

pressing them, make them self-contradictory (as the associa-
tionist psychology does when it calls them many ideas fused
into one idea) or pretend to explain them (as the soul-
theory so often does) by a barren verbal principle.

My intention was a good one, and a natural science
infinitely more complete than the psychologies we now
possess could be written without abandoning its terms.
Like all authors, I have, therefore, been surprised that this
child of my genius should not be more admired by others —
should, in fact, have been generally either misunderstood or
despised. But do not fear that on this occasion I am either
going to defend or to re-explain the bantling. I am going to
make things more harmonious by simply giving it up. I have
become convinced since publishing that book that no con-
ventional restrictions can keep metaphysical and so-called
epistemological inquiries out of the psychology books. I
see, moreover, better now than then that my proposal to
designate mental states merely by their cognitive function
leads to a somewhat strained way of talking of dreams and
reveries, and to quite an unnatural way of talking of some
emotional states. I am willing, consequently, henceforward
that mental contents should be called complex, just as their
objects are, and this even in psychology. Not because their
parts are separable, as the parts of objects are; not because
they have an eternal or quasi-eternal individual existence,
like the parts of objects; for the various ' contents ' of which
they are parts are integers, existentially, and their parts only
live as long as they live. Still, in them, we can call parts,
parts. — But when, without circumlocution or disguise, I thus
come over to your views, I insist that those of you who ap-
plaud me (if any such there be) should recognize the obliga-
tions which the new agreement imposes on yourselves. Not
till you have dropped the old phrases, so absurd or so
empty, of ideas 'self-compounding' or 'united by a spiritual
principle;' not till you have in your turn succeeded in some
such long inquiry into conditions as the one I have just
failed in ; not till you have laid bare more of the nature of
that altogether unique kind of complexity in unity which
mental states involve ; not till then, I say, will psychology
reach any real benefit from the conciliatory spirit of which
I have done what I can to set an example.

CONTRIBUTIONS FROM THE PSYCHOLOGICAL
LABORATORY OF COLUMBIA COLLEGE. (III.)

EXPERIMENTS ON DERMAL SENSATIONS. l

BY HAROLD GRIPPING.

The Relation between the Intensity of the Stimulus and its
Estimated Intensity.

Two stimuli differing greatly in intensity were success-
ively applied to the hand of the observer, and he was re-
quired to judge how much greater one was than the other.
The pressure was given by weights placed in the pan of a
balance, and was transmitted to the hand by a wooden rod
attached to the pan. The stimuli were 2, 10, 50, 250, 1250,
and 1800 grams. The area of stimulation was that of a cir-
cle 4 mm. in diameter. The experiments made on four
observers showed that on the average 10 g. was considered
about twice as heavy as 2 g. ; 50 g. twice as heavy as 10 g. ;
250 g. three times as heavy as 50 g. ; 1250 g. five times as
heavy as 25Og. ; and 1800 g. three times as heavy as 1250 g.
It thus appears that for low and moderate intensities the
estimate of intensity increases much more slowly than the
objective intensity; but as the stimulus approaches the
pain threshold, the reverse appears to be the case. Indi-
viduals differ, however, in their underestimation of low
intensities, and also, but to a greater degree, in their over-
estimation of high intensities.

The Discrimination of Weights of Different Intensities.

Cylindrical boxes filled with shot served as stimuli. The
method used was that of right and wrong cases ; that is, the
stimuli were placed successively upon the hand, and the ob-

1 A full account and discussion of these experiments will be found in the writer's
dissertation, On Sensations from Pressure and Impact. Supplement Monograph
(No. i) to this REVIEW.

12.5

126 HAROLD GRIPPING.

server was asked to decide which was heavier. The accu-
racy of discrimination is measured by the probable error, or
that increment which the observer perceives correctly 75 #
of the time.1 Thus the greater the probable error the less
the accuracy of discrimination. The stimuli varied from
100 to 3200 g., no more than four intensities being used for
any one observer. The results of 9040 experiments made
on 5 observers showed that the probable error for pressure
stimuli tends to increase in proportion to the intensity of
the stimulus within the approximate limits 300-3000 g. For
low intensities the probable error increases much more
slowly than the stimulus. For 5-7 g. the probable error
for a good observer was \ of the stimulus. For high inten-
sities also there seems to be a similar tendency, but it is not
so marked. As illustrative of our results, we give the prob-
able errors in grams for McW. : for 100 g., 19; for 500 g.,
36; for 1500 g., 112; for 3200 g., 193. The average value
of the probable error for all stimuli (100 g. and above) and
all observers was approximately ^ of the stimulus. That
is we can, on the average, judge correctly whether one
stimulus is heavier or lighter than another 75^ of the time
when the stimuli are in the ratio 9: 10.

In these experiments the constant error, or tendency to
overestimate the second stimulus, was found to be for some
persons very great, running as high as J of the stimulus.
The constant error is more variable than the probable error ;
the expression * constant error ' is thus quite misleading.
The constant error seems to be greater for observers having
a large probable error. A great constant error for pressure
is not necessarily accompanied by a similar overestimation
for lifted weights.

The degree of confidence was studied by having the ob-
servers say a, b, c and d, according as they were certain,
quite confident, less confident, or doubtful. Individuals
differ greatly in their confidence, the percentage of wrong
judgments of which observers were confident varying from
2# to 33 %. The probability of correctness when confident

1 This quantity has been considered to be equivalent to the least noticeable differ-
ence. It is doubtful, however,, ifi such, a relation can be justified.

EXPERIMENTS ON DERMAL SENSATIONS. I2/

•was for most observers about .8 to .9. There appears to be
no relation between these quantities and the accuracy of dis-
crimination. The percentage of correct guesses varied from
52 # to 70$, the average being 59$.

The Place of Stimulation9.

The accuracy of discrimination for weights of 100 g. or
.more is not for two observers appreciably different for the
ipalm of the hand, the back of the hand, and the volar sur-
face of the third phalanx of the index finger. For 5—7 g. it
was found at first to be much less for the back of the hand
.and wrist than for the index finger of one observer, but
to increase greatly by practice. Stimuli of low intensity, 5
and ioog., when placed on the forearm, tended to be judged
lighter than when placed on the finger. This result was
obtained by placing a weight first on the finger and then on
Ihe arm, increments being added until the weights seemed
equal.

The writer tested the sensitiveness to pain at different
•parts of the body by the algometer.1 It was found that the
sensitiveness is greatest where the skin is thin and not sepa-
rated from the bone by other tissues. Among the most sen-
sitive parts are the upper regions of the head, whereas the
palm of the hand, the thigh and the heel are among the least
sensitive parts.

Sensations from Impact.

The tactile threshold for pressure stimuli without move-
ment was found by observing the angular elevation of a
bristle which was attached at one end to a wooden handle,
;and at the other could transmit pressure to the skin. In
this way it was found that .4 g. is about as easily perceived
when movement is thus excluded, as is .01 g., when the
-stimulus is placed carefully upon the hand. The difference
in the results is due to the sensory effect of movement.

By dropping weights upon the hand, the heights were
.found at which different weights caused pain. The weights
were 25, 100, 200 and 300 g. The area of stimulation was

1 An instrument by which pressure could be exerted up to 15 k.

128 HAROLD GRIPPING.

constant, a circle about i cm. in diameter. The results of
60 measurements showed that the product of the mass and
height pain-thresholds is fairly constant. As the height
through which a body falls is proportional to the square of
the velocity, the pain threshold and therefore the intensity
of pain, depend as much upon the square of the velocity as
upon the mass of a striking object.

By the method of right and wrong cases we studied the-
accuracy of discrimination for impact stimuli. The results
of 800 experiments showed that a weight of 50 g., falling"
through 17.5 cm., is judged about as well as looog. without
movement. The average probable error for pressure only
was -^ of the stimulus for S. F., and -fa for L. F. For im-
pact the corresponding values were ^ and T^-.

In 900 experiments, carried on in the same way, the
weight was kept constant and the observer required to esti-
mate differences in the intensity of the blow due to differ-
ences in height and therefore velocity. The results were
compared with those based upon the same number of experi-
ments on the same observers, in which the height was
constant and the weight variable. We found that, on the
whole, differences in weight are judged less accurately than*
differences in velocity, but more accurately than differences
in the square of the velocity. But great individual varia-
tions occur.

Experiments were also made on the intensive effect of
the weight as compared to that of the velocity. A 100 g.
weight having fallen upon the hand from a height of 5 cm.,
the height was found at which 25 g. would cause a sensation
of the same intensity. Here also observers differed greatly.
The average height for 5 observers was 38 cm., the maxi-
mum being 58, the minimum 20 cm. Hence the mass has in
general greater intensive effect than the height or the square
of the velocity. Otherwise the average height found would
be about 20 cm. On the other hand, the mass has less effect
than the velocity or square root of the height.

The Area of Stimulation.

In the experiments on Weber's law two areas were used,
8 sq. cm. and .12 sq. cm. approximately. It was found that

EXPERIMENTS ON DERMAL SENSATIONS. 129

on the whole this difference of area did not affect the accu-
racy of discrimination for weights. Individual variations,
however, were very marked.

If stimuli of the same weight, but different areas, be
placed successively upon the hand, the stimulus applied on
the smaller area will be overestimated. By applying the
method of right and wrong cases we measured this overesti-
mation. The results of 400 experiments on one observer
gave an overestimation of J of the stimulus at 200 g. Ex-
periments by a different application of the method of right
and wrong cases on 5 observers gave about the same result,
except that one observer showed a tendency to underesti-
mate, rather than overestimate, the stimulus applied to the
smaller area. By a third method, however, we found a
decided overestimation for only 2 out of 5 observers. From
these experiments on 10 observers, we conclude that this
tendency is by no means universal.

The effect of alterations in the intensity of pressure on
the accuracy of discrimination of areas was investigated by
the method of right and wrong cases, differences in area
being judged instead of differences in intensity. The stand-
ard areas used were i and 8 sq. cm. and the intensities
200 and 800 grams. The results of 1900 experiments on 3
observers showed that the accuracy of discrimination for
areas was, on the average, about J greater for 200 g. than
for 800 g.

By placing thin circular cards upon the hand and apply-
ing pressure upon these, we studied the effect of variations
in the area on the so-called tactile threshold. The areas
were approximately i mm., 10 mm. and 90 mm. The aver-
ages of the corresponding threshold values, based upon 60
experiments, were for F., .2 g., .9 g. and 1.9 g. ; and for the
writer, .5 g., 1.4 g. and 1.6 g. Thus the smaller the area
the greater the probability that stimuli of low intensity will
be perceived.

In a .similar manner the relation of the pain threshold
to the area of stimulation was investigated. The average
values of the pain threshold, based upon 80 experiments on
two observers, were: for 10 mm., 1.4 kilog. ; for 30 mm.,

130 SHEPHERD IVORY FRANZ.

2.8 kilog. ; for 90 mm., 4.4 kilog. ; and for 270 mm., 6.6
kilog. Thus the pain threshold increases with the area;
but, like the tactile threshold, much more slowly than in
direct proportion.

The Time of Stimulation.

The sensory effect of pressure stimuli of low intensity
was found to depend upon the rate at which the pressure
was increased. The instrument used was that referred to in
the experiments already described on the tactile threshold.
By this pressure was exerted upon the palm of the observer's
hand up to .4 g., at different rates of increase. These rates
were approximately .05 g., .3 g. and 2 g. per second. The
corresponding percentages of times the stimulus was per-
ceived in 300 experiments on 2 observers were 6^, 32^, and
82^. Thus the greater the rate of increase the greater the
probability of perception.

The time in which dermal stimuli of different intensities
cause pain was found in the following manner. Different
weights were placed in a balance pan so as to press upon
the palm of the hand, and the time was noted which elapsed
before the appearance of pain. The pressure was commu-
nicated from the pan to the hand by a wooden rod fastened
to the pan. The diameter of the base was 1.5 mm. The
averages in seconds, based upon 80 experiments on 2 ob-
servers, are as follows: for 100 g., 230 sec. ; for 200 g., 35
sec. ; for 300 g., 10 sec. ; for 500 g., 4.5 sec. It is evident,
therefore, that the time as well as the area and intensity of
stimulation determine the sensory effect. There is, how-
ever, an intensive limit, below which pressure stimuli never
become painful. This is probably from 25 to 50 g. for the
area used.

THE AFTER-IMAGE THRESHOLD.
BY SHEPHERD IVORY FRANZ.

Ever since Aristotle described in his De Somniis1 the
appearance of an after-image, the phenomena have attracted

1 This seems not to be generally known by German writers. Aubert and Helm-
Holtz both credit Peiresc as being the first to mention after-images.

THE AFTER-IMAGE THRESHOLD. !$!

attention. St. Augustine mentions them, and in modern
times such prominent men as Buffon, Goethe and Newton
have described their appearance. But very little was ac-
complished beyond the making of theories until this century,
when Plateau, Seguin, Fechner and others studied the color
changes. Up to the present time practically nothing has
been accomplished in the way of exact measurement.

The present paper gives the results of an attempt to
measure the smallest amount of light which will produce an
after-image. For this purpose three physical units had to be
considered — the intensity of the light, its area, and the time of
stimulation. The apparatus used was planned and formerly
used by Prof. Cattell, but was adapted by the writer. It is
represented in the accompanying cut.

FIGURE 1.

S is an upright iron screen pierced by a hole (H) through
which the light from the hooded lamp (L) may pass to the
observer on the other side of the screen. P is a seconds
pendulum. To this is attached a piece of sheet iron which
covers the hole when the pendulum is held up by the electro-
magnet (M). The key (K) which makes and breaks the cur-
rent to the magnet (M) is managed by the experimenter, and

1 32 SHEPHERD IVOR Y FRANZ.

the pendulum is held up or let swing at his pleasure. By
breaking and making the current the pendulum swings, per-
mits the light to be seen by the observer for exactly one
second, and is caught up again by the magnet. The lamp is
moved along the arm (A), increasing or decreasing the
intensity of the light. The opening (H) was covered with
ground glass, yfoj- candle power was found a convenient
intensity, this being increased by moving the lamp nearer
the observer, and decreased by moving it away from the
observer. The lamp was used at the distances J, ^-, i, 2
and 4 meters, and so far as the intensity decreases inversely
as the square of the distance, the respective intensities would
be A» A» T*TF> TTO and nnnr candle power. The absorbing
power of the ground glass was found to be $o°/ct whence
the intensities were decreased by half — making the series —
A» T>V> *fop imp romp c- P- In the experiments on inten-
sity, the time of exposure (one second) and the area (64
sq. mm.) were kept constant. For the experiments on area,
the lamp was placed at a distance of J m., thus making the
intensity fa c. p., the time (one second) being the other
constant. The area was changed by using different pieces
of ground glass on which black paper blocked off all but the
small area required. The areas used were 64, 16, 4, i, J, -fa
sq. mm. When time was the changeable unit, the area (64
sq. mm.) and the intensity (fa c. p.) were the constants. The
series consisted of four times, y^^rp yfop tV and l second-
The shorter times were obtained by means of drop screens,
made of pasteboard and weighted. As they did not fall in
grooves there was no appreciable friction, and hence the
real time practically corresponded with the theoretical time.
The screen was on the side of the apparatus near the
observer, and therefore is not shown in the cut. The time
one second was given by the pendulum. As will be noticed,
there was a common unit in the three series, i. e., when the
experiments were made with i sec., 64 sq. mm. and fa c. p.
The experiments were conducted in a dark room, and all
observations were made with the eyes open, so as not to
disturb the after-image. A cloth curtain was hung across
the room, shutting off from the observer everything but the

THE AFTER-IMAGE THRESHOLD. 133

small opening in the screen. The observer's eyes were 30
cm. from the opening, his head being steadied by a support.
Before any experiments were made a rest of ten minutes
was taken to allow the observer's eyes to become accustomed
to the darkness; between the disappearance of one after-
image and the next stimulus there was a rest of thirty
seconds. When the thirty seconds had elapsed a signal was
given, five seconds were allowed for preparation, and the
stimulus was produced.

Very few difficulties presented themselves, and of these
the only one not overcome was the lack of a fixation point,
as any fixation point was apt to produce a disturbing after-
image. By practice, however, the observer learned to look
in a certain way for the stimulus, and in the case of the
writer not over five per cent, of the time were the eyes
consciously focussed after any part of the light was seen.
The kerosene lamp used was trimmed at the beginning of
the experiments. By photometric determinations always
made before a sitting and generally during and after the
sitting, it was found that the light varied very little or not
at all.

Four observers were tested, C., McW. and S. respec-
tively with time, area and intensity. All were advanced
students in psychology, and S. had had previous experience
with after-images. F., the writer, was the fourth observer,
the three series being made upon him.

The results of nearly 3,000 experiments are given in the
following tables. In the first line the percentage of times
an after-image was seen is given, and in the second line the
average variation of the sets of ten trials ; 100 experiments
of each sort were made, excepting in those cases in which a
different number is given in parenthesis.

Some preliminary experiments on area made on the writer
bear out in general the results in the corresponding series.
These experiments were made with an intensity of -fa c. p.,
so that they could not be combined with the others. The
other constant was an exposure of one second. The same
areas were used except that the ^ sq. mm. was omitted.
Seventy experiments were made on each area. The results,
with the average variations, are shown in the accompanying
table.

134

SHEPHERD IVORY FRANZ.
INTENSITY.

Intensity in
candle power.

A

•h

innr

irk

ir^Tfr

( Percentage,

IOO

94

48

i?

2

S. \

( Variation,

— (80)

7

25 (no)

20.8 (no)

3-6

( Per cent.,

IOO

96

44

15.5

i

F- 1

( Var.,

—

5-4

1 9. 5 (130)

1 3- 5 to0)

1.8

AREA.

Area in
square mm.

64

16

4

i

i

A

( Per cent.,
McW. J
(Var.,

IOO

— (so)

90

7.5(80)

72
14.8

52
12.4

27
9.2

20

6

( Percent.,

IOO

96

88

57

3i

8

F. \

( Var.,

—

4.8

8.8

13

15-4

8

TIME.

Time in seconds.

i

A

nnr

1000

( Per cent,
C. ]

( Var.,

97

3-5(70)

95

7

75
17

12

10.8

( Per cent.,

F. ]
(Var.,

IOO

97

4.2

82.5

8. 3 (xao)

19
7.4

THE AFTEK-IMAGE THRESHOLD.
AREA.

135

Area in sq. mm.

64

16

4

i

i

( Per cent.,

96

89

67

41

'9

F. ]

(Var.,

5

10

14.7

10

9.9

The results of the first three tables are represented graph-
ically by the accompanying curves.

FIGURE 2.

ft * *

The abscissa denotes respectively divisions of time, area
and intensity, the ordinate the percentage of times an after-
image appeared. The curves are not carried out to repre-
sent the greatest intensity, the greatest area and the greatest
time. Each curve is the average of the two observers in
that series, the close agreement of the observers making this
method permissible. The figures on the abscissa represent
the proportion of that stimulus to the greatest stimulus,
taking respectively time, area and intensity as the variables.

If we regard the threshold as that intensity, time or area,
which produces an after-image 75^ of the number of
stimuli, we conclude

(i). That with an exposure of one second and an intensity
of ^ c. p., the threshold is 4 sq. mm.

(2). That with the area 64 sq. mm. and the intensity -fc
c. p., the threshold is y^j- second.

136 SHEPHERD I VOR Y FRANZ.

(3). That with the area 64 sq. mm. and the time of ex-
posure one second, the threshold is yj^ candle
power (approximately), or between -^ and ^-g-c. p.

If we substitute in our definition 25^, or 50^, or 90^, for
the 75 #, we but change the figures to suit the case.

It is worth noting that of the 1,500 cases when after-
images were seen, but five were negative, a proof of the
theory that the negative a ter-image is due to exhaustion of
the eyes, the low intensities, the small areas and the short
times not being sufficient to tire or exhaust the eyes. These
five negative images were all seen toward the close of a
sitting, when the eyes had been used for forty or fifty experi-
ments, and all were with the greatest intensity, the longest
time and the largest area.

With the results obtained we are able to make a further
comparison — a correlation of our physical units in terms of
the production of after-images — a purely psychological prob-
lem. How much time equals how much intensity or area?
A glance at the curves and percentages shows that equal
increments in area, intensity and time do not give equal re-
sults. If we represent our constants by the letters c, c' and
c" respectively for intensity, time and area, and let i, t and a
represent respectively -^ c. p., y^ sec. and ^ sq. mm.,
from the table of percentages we get the following approxi-
mate equations. —

i c = t c' = a c"
(2ic) = (i.7tc') = (4ac")
4 i c = 3.2 t c' = 16 a c"
8 i c = 10 t c' = 64 a c"
16 i c = 100 t c' = 256 a c"

The 8 i c and the 3.2 t c' represent yfo- c. p. and T^ sec.
(approximately). These figures and the second equation in
brackets are supplied from the curves. The relations, then,
may be stated as follows: "Squaring the time equals
doubling the intensity or quadrupling the area," and vice
versa, "reducing the area to one-fourth equals halving the
intensity and taking the square root of the time." Whether
this be a chance relation or a general one throughout the
phenomena of after-images cannot be dogmatically stated
now. The writer has in view the further study of this problem.

THE NORMAL DEFECT OF VISION IN THE
FOVEA.

BY CHRISTINE LADD FRANKLIN.

When the fact that the retina contains a substance which
is chemically acted upon by light was first announced, it
seemed that the secret of the transformation of energy of
wave-motion into something capable of being transmitted
along the nerve fibres and affecting the conscious organism
as the sensation of light had been definitely, at least in its
rough stages, unravelled. But immediately difficulties ap-
peared : the substance could not be detected in the cones,
and it was therefore apparently wanting in the fovea, the
spot of most acute vision ; and, moreover, certain classes of
animals had retinas which contained none of the substance.
It was therefore certain that the visual purple was not essen-
tial to vision, and the intense interest which it had at first
aroused fell wholly into abeyance.

Prof. Ebbinghaus has recently returned to the subject,
and has proposed to account for the apparent colorlessness
of the cones by assuming in them a second substance of
such a color as always to mark the presence of the visual
purple. The visual purple (or visual blue, as it must be
considered for this purpose, although its real color is only a
very slightly bluish-red) and its product, the visual yellow,
are the source of the sensations of yellowj[and blue respect-
ively ; the imaginary substance is, in its two stages, the
source of the sensations red and green, and is for that pur-
pose first green and then red in color. Now, a green and a
purple substance, when present together, might, it is true,
produce a colorless mixture, since purple and green are
complementary colors; but a moment later these two sub-
stances have become respectively yellow and red. What

137

138 CHRISTINE LADD FRANKLIN.

becomes of the complementariness then? — or when one is
green and the other yellow? — or when one is red and the
other purple? Or must we suppose that, although thou-
sands of eyes have been examined, first and last, after every
possible degree of exposure to light, and to color, still
chance has brought it about that no stage of this series of
processes has ever been lighted upon except the first ? So
short-sighted a theory as this, — one in which we must so
carefully refrain from going beyond the first step of the im-
agined process, — has probably never before been seriously
proposed for acceptance.

But the suggestion of Prof. Ebbinghaus has had this,
good effect, that it has induced Prof. Konig to undertake
an accurate determination of the relative absorption of the
visual purple for different kinds of homogeneous light.1 He
proposed the question as a subject of investigation to Dr.
Abelsdorff and Frl. Kottgen. A spectro-photometer espe-
cially designed for the purpose was constructed, and it was
hoped that the skill and experience gained in the study of
the visual purple of the frog they might, in course of time,
be able to apply to a human retina, if good luck should
throw one in their way. But, as it happened, the apparatus
was no sooner set up in one of the dark rooms of the labora-
tory than they received word that a human retina was to be
at their disposal ; and Dr. Abelsdorff being suddenly called
away, the study of it was carried out by Prof. Konig and
Frl. Kottgen. The patient to whom the eye belonged re-
mained in absolute darkness for twenty hours before the
operation. The eye was extracted by the light of a sodium
flame, put at once into an intensely black box, and rapidly
conveyed to Prof. Konig's laboratory. Here it was opened,
twenty minutes after leaving the living body, with all the
necessary precautions, by an oculist who had already made
himself familiar, by means of the ophthalmoscope, with the
exact position of the melano-sarcoma which had caused the
eye to be extracted. The entire retina, with the exception

1 Ueber den menschlichen Sehpurpur und seine Bedeutung fur das Sehen. Nacb
gemeinschaftlich mit Frl. Else Kottgen ausgefUhrten Versuchen. Sitzungsber. <L
Akad. d. Wissensch. zu Berlin, 21 Juni, 1894.

THE NORMAL DEFECT OF VISION IN THE FOVEA. 139

of the diseased portion, was put into a solution of gallic acid,
and after nitration a sufficient amount of the extract was
obtained to fill twice the minute absorption-box of the spec-
trophotometer. With the first filling the absorption of the
visual purple was obtained and compared with the absorp-
tion of the (not absolutely clear) solution which remained
after the purple (crimson) color had been wholly bleached
out; the second filling sufficed for a redetermination of the
absorption of the visual purple, and for that of the visual
yellow, which was obtained after the purple had been
bleached for that color. (The two determinations of the
absorption of the purple substance are in close agreement
with each other.)

It was at once evident that the absorption distribution in
the spectrum of the purple substance coincided roughly
with the spectral distribution of brightness for the congen-
itally totally color-blind, and also with the spectral distribu-
tion of brightness for the normal eye (as well as for the par-
tially color-blind) at a very faint degree of luminosity. The
suggestion was a natural one that it is the vision of the
totally color-blind, and of the normal eye in a faint light,
which is dependent upon the absorption of light by the
visual purple. The curves of sensation in these two cases
were reduced to a spectrum of equal distribution of energy
by means of Prof. Langley's determination of the distribu-
tion of energy throughout the spectrum. Correction was
also made for the absorption of the macula lutea and for that
of the crystalline lens (freshly determined for an individual
of the proper age). It then became evident that the coinci-
dence between the three curves is remarkably close. (That
the two curves of sensation referred to are in close agree-
ment with each other had, of course, already been shown by
Hering.) It was evident, that is, that the absorption in the
purple substance is very exactly proportional to the value of
light as an exciter of sensation (i) in the totally color-blind,
and (2) in all other eyes at an intensity so faint that colors
are no longer visible. Prof. Konig had also convinced him-
self of the existence of a similar coincidence between the
absorption of the visual yellow and the blue constituent of

140 CHRISTINE LADD FRANKLIN.

the colors of the spectrum as already determined by himself
and Dieterici (Zeitsch. f. Psych, u. Phys. der Sinnesorgane,
IV., S. 241).

But the difficulty still remained which had originally
caused the visual purple to fall into neglect, — the substance
is apparently wanting in the cones, and therefore in the
fovea. To meet this difficulty two assumptions were possi-
ble : either, that the cones do contain the purple substance,
but in so decomposable a form that it can never be detected
objectively, no matter what the precaution used in extract-
ing the eye ; or, that the eye is actually blind in the fovea in
the two cases in question. In favor of the first assumption
was the fact that, if the yellow substance is really the source
of the sensation of blue, then it must be supposed to exist in
a less decomposable state in the periphery of the eye to
account for the fact that we are then nearly blind to blue;1
it therefore ' lies near' to assume (when some assumption is
absolutely necessary) that it exists in a much more decom-
posable state in the fovea, and that it has for this reason
hitherto escaped detection. But I was most anxious to put
the second of these assumptions to the test, — the more so as
I had already made the prediction that the cause of total
color-blindness is a defective development of the cones;2
and also that the function of the visual purple is to render
possible that form of vision which does not exist until after
a delay of twenty minutes or so in a dark room ;3 both pre-
dictions being naturally suggested by my theory of light-
sensation. I had also pointed out, in the last-mentioned
paper, that the visual purple cannot exist in the cones, even
in a bleached-out state, because the visual purple is fluores-
cent, and the more so the more it is bleached out, while the

1 Gad, in his criticism of the papers of Konig and Zumft, about to be mentioned,
implies (p. 499) that Prof. Konig found the blue-blindness of the fovea forced upon
him by his hypothesis regarding the function of the visual purple and of the visual yel-
low. That was not the case ; Prof. Konig had adopted the first of the two assump-
tions here affirmed to be possible, and it was only some six weeks later that the defect-
ive vision of the fovea was discovered.

1 Zeitsch. f. Psych, u. Phys. der Sinnesorgane. Bd. IV. s. 9.

8 Professor Ebbinghaus* Theory of Colour Vision. MlND, N. S. Vol. Ill, p.
103.

THE NORMAL DEFECT OF VISION IN THE FOVEA. 141

fovea remains as a dark spot in the ultra-violet rays of the
spectrum ; and the more strikingly dark the more the rods
in the neighborhood have become fluorescent (p. 100). On
the other hand, Prof. Konig pointed out to me that even if
vision should be wholly wanting in the fovea of a totally
color-blind individual, it would hardly be possible to detect
it, for he would unquestionably have acquired the habit by
avoiding the use of this spot. This suggestion was, there-
fore, not immediately carried out. But it was arranged
that I should take for the subject of my investigation for the
summer a re-determination of the threshold of sensation for
different parts of the retina and for different kinds of mono-
chromatic light. A plan of work was built up in two of the
dark rooms of the laboratory, and I have to express my
gratitude to Prof. Konig for his untiring patience in assist-
ing me to overcome the difficulties which one after another
presented themselves.1 The preliminary observations for
eliminating the sources of error consumed some time, and I
then made a first determination of the variation in the inten-
sity of light necessary in order to be just perceptible, or of
its inversion — the sensitiveness of the eye to faint impres-
sions— at different distances from the fovea. I even drew
the curves, and found them to present a maximum at a dis-
tance of about 25°, at which point the sensitiveness of the
eye is about four times as great as at the fovea, while at a
distance of 50° the sensitiveness is still about twice as great as
at the fovea. E. Pick found the maximum to be at about 15°,
but that was without making correction for the diminished
area of the pupil of the eye when light enters it very much
from the side. The shape of the curves is not noticeably
different for different parts of the spectrum. These curves
are a representation of the diminished sensitiveness in the
region of the fovea, which has long been known, and which
has been especially forced upon the attention of astronomers
when looking for faint stars with the naked eye. I had been
in the end for several weeks at work in my dark room for
the express purpose of finding that the fovea is blind to im-
pressions so faint as those with which I was occupied, before

1 The full results of this investigation will be published later.

142 CHRISTINE LADD FRANKLIN.

I found it; although, after it has once been seen, it seems
incredible that it can ever have been overlooked. It finally
dawned upon me — not that the bright point directly looked
at was invisible — but that by giving what I can only describe
as a certain curious twist to the eye, a certain bright point
could be caused to disappear.1

The reason that the « normal night-blindness of the
fovea,' as this insensitiveness to the faint-light sensation
may best be called, has been completely overlooked by all
other observers, and also by E. Pick and by Kirschmann, I
who have made a special investigation of the threshold of
sensation for different parts of the retina, is very plain : the
unconscious ego, which takes so large a part in regulating
the action of even the voluntary muscles, is well aware of
this blindness, and takes pains that an image of a small
object shall almost never fall upon this spot. In a faint
light, to look at, which is usually a phrase of two-fold signifi-
cance, meaning, namely, to turn the eye in such a way that
its power of seeing is a maximum ; and also to turn the eye
so that the image of the object looked at falls on the fovea,
has now the two elements of its significance disjoined ;
when vision is at a maximum (or when it is possible at all),
it is necessary that the image should fall a little to one side
of the fovea, and that is the motion with which the subject-
ive feeling of fixation is associated. Not only did the faint
object which I was engaged in observing disappear, but also
the two (much brighter) spots of phosphorescent paste
(which are used in order to secure a fixation-point halfway
between them) could be made to completely vanish by
1 looking at ' them, in the new sense of that phrase. This
phosphorescent matter gives a spectrum which is almost
wholly blue.

Having convinced myself of the existence of this faint-
light foveal blindness, it was necessary to devise a method
by which the total blindness of the fovea of the totally color-

1 This motion of the eye can be facilitated if one brings in the aid of a strong
desire not to see the point. This would seem to show that the knowledge of the exist-
ence of this blind spot, while almost wholly below the level of consciousness, is yet not
altogether withdrawn from an interaction with the conscious content of the organism.

THE NORMAL DEFECT OF VISION IN THE FOVEA. 143

blind patient, who was soon to return to Prof. Konig's labor-
atory, could be demonstrated. It was not permitted to
subject his eyes to any strain, and it was not probable that a
rather feeble boy of thirteen could easily learn to execute a
motion which had hitherto been absolutely avoided, not only
by him but by all the rest of the world; and which, besides,
there was no possibility of describing to him. But it natu-
rally suggested itself to me very soon that it would only be
necessary to give him a group of closely contiguous isolated
bright points to look at, and that chance would see to it that
one or the other of them should now and then fall into the
dark hole of his fovea. The same device has proved effect-
ive for exhibiting the faint-light blindness to a person who
has not yet learned to execute the motion of the eye neces-
sary to cause a single spot to disappear. Prof. Konig at
once made use of this method to show that even the most
intense blue that could be thrown into the field of his spec-
tro-photometer, by the light of the oxyhydrogen blow-pipe,
is insufficient to cause any sensation whatever in the fovea.
No difficulty was experienced in demonstrating the total
blindness of the totally color-blind boy in this spot, although
it was quite impossible to get him to experience the invisi-
bility of a single bright point when only one was in the
field. This individual had a definite spot at one side of the
fovea, which he constantly made use of as a fixation-spot;
the nystagmus, which is a common accompaniment of total
color-blindness, is readily explained as the expression of
there being no such favored substitution fovea. The re-
markable diminution of visual acuity on the part of such
patients, which has not hitherto been understood, is seen to
be very natural when it is known that their fovea is not in a
condition to perform its function. Prof. Konig proceeded
at once to make a series of color-equations in the fovea — a
work of extreme difficulty — from which it appears that the
condition, which extends over an area of from 55' to 70', is
that of a typical blue-blindness.

To the facts already described, Prof. Konig adds a con-
tribution recently made by himself and Dr. Zumft,1 by which

1 Ueber die lichtempfindliche Schicht in der Netzhaut des Menschlichen Auges.
Sitzungsberichte d. Akad. d. Wissench. zu Berlin, 24 Mai, 1894.

144 CHRISTINE LADD FRANKLIN.

they would seem to have shown that light of different colors
is perceived in different layers of the retina, and blue dis-
tinctly in front of green, yellow and red. The method con-
sists in throwing two shadows of a blood-vessel upon the
back of the retina, by means of two holes in a card, which is-
constantly moved to and fro in the front focal plane of the
eye. The distance apart of the two shadows they were able
to measure, and they found it to be different for differently
colored homogeneous light; and the calculated distance of
the blood-vessel from the layer of retina which is affected by
the light, they found to be, for several portions of the spec-
trum examined:

X 670 O-44 mm.

59° °-44

535 0-41

486 0.38

434 0.36

White, 0.41

Prof. Konig interprets this to mean that the space be-
tween the layer in which blue is perceived, and that in
which red is perceived, is greater than the thickness of the
end members of the rods and cones, and hence that one
must infer that the pigment epithelium also is a layer sensi-
tive to light. It would seem, however, that there must be
something about these experiments the meaning of which is
not yet wholly cleared up, for the length of the outer mem-
ber of a rod is only .025 to .03 mm., and that of an epithe-
lium cell is only about half as much again. They do not,
therefore, together form a layer of sufficient thickness to
take in the difference of .08 mm., which the observations re-
quire. The experiment, therefore, proves too much. Again,
Prof. Konig's interpretation of the facts here enumerated, as
meaning that the visual yellow is the source of the sensation
of blue ; that green, yellow and red are all perceived in the
pigment-epithelium, and that the cones are merely lenses for
concentrating light upon the epithelium cells, makes no pro-
vision for the nerve-conduction of any effect of light in the
epithelium. In the fovea there would be absolutely no-
means of such conduction except by way of the cones, and

THE NORMAL DEFECT OF VISION IN THE FOVEA. 14$

it is difficult to conceive that organs which are performing
the part of lenses should also be able to function as con-
ductors.1 Again, the recent brilliant work of Ramon y
Cayal and others on the minute anatomy of the retina dis-
closes such close similarity (together with a perfectly defin-
ite difference) between the rods and the cones, as regards
structure and connections, as to make it very unnatural to
assign to them functions of a widely different nature. Prof.
Konig says (p. 4) that the results here communicated
"are in contradiction (i) with the theories of Hering and
Ebbinghaus, according to which a single substance forms
the basis of the red and green sensations on the one hand,
and of the blue and yellow sensations on the other hand ;
and (2) with the theories of Bonders, Wundt and Franklin,
according to which all colors are perceived in a single sub-
stance." It is true that all these theories would be rather
hard hit by these results, if the results themselves were not
involved in some obscurity. As it is, however, it may per-
haps be safe to wait until the discrepancies pointed out have
been, to some extent at least, cleared up.

There is yet one more recent contribution from Konig's
laboratory which has an important bearing upon the new
facts already mentioned. Brodhun, and more recently
Tonn, have shown that the Purkinje phenomenon consists in
a change in the blue constituent of white light — the red and
green remaining unchanged ; this would seem to indicate
that the increased amount of coloring matter in the rods, as
the intensity of light begins to diminish, furnishes a means
for an increased amount of absorption, and would seem to
point, it must be confessed, to the rods as the seat, at least
in part, of the sensation of blue.

Farther elements of the theory of light-sensation now
advocated by Prof. Konig are these :

1 Prof. Gad (whose paper has reached me since writing the above) makes the far-
ther criticism that only the first surface of the pigment-cells would be available, because
light cannot pass through even a very thin layer of the fuscine which gives them their
dark color. But he apparently forgets that, under an ordinary degree of illumination, 'the
pigment grains are nearly all heaped up between the visual elements, and that the body
of the pigment cell is left almost free from them. (Der Energieumsatz in der Retina.
Separat-Abzug aus Arch. f. Anat. u. Phys., 1894.)

146 CHRISTINE LADD FRANKLIN.

1. The visual purple is the photo-chemical substance
whose decomposition causes the faint light sensation. That
sensation is in reality blue, although we are not aware of it.

2. The visual yellow is the source of the sensation of blue
at ordinary intensities.

3. The white, and also all shades of grey, of an ordinary
illumination, are of a very different origin from (a) the sensa-
tion of grey in a faint light, (b) the sensation of the totally
color-blind, (c) the sensation of the normal eye in the pe-
riphery ; they are (as in the original Young-Helmholtz
theory) a synthesis in 'judgment' of the sensations red,
green and blue.

As regards Prof. Konig's interpretation of the new facts,
the following observations remain to be made :

(a). There is no occasion for assuming that the visual
purple is, by its decomposition, the source of the sensation.
All that is forced upon us is that absorption by the visual
purple acts as a means of re-inforcement at a time when light
would be too feeble to perform its function without the pres-
ence of a special agent for absorbing it. That the visual
purple and the visual yellow should, by their decomposition,
furnish the same sensation (blue) is very hard to believe, in
view of the fact that the visual yellow is, beyond all ques-
tion, itself one of the decomposition products of the visual
purple, and that their decomposition products can therefore
not possibly be the same.

(b). Becker's case of congenital monocular total color-
blindness, many cases of acquired monocular total color-
blindness, and the consciousness of every individual in a
faint light, all speak against the hypothesis that blue, and
not grey, is perceived under those circumstances; still
more, the perfect conviction which one has that a bit of
colored paper whose image is removed to the periphery of
the eye fades into a grey which is indistinguishable from the
grey of direct vision.

(c). There is no doubt whatever that the eye has a per-
fectly unimpaired vision for the whole length of the spectrum
when the light is so strong that the rod-yellow has been
completely bleached out. That can, therefore, not be the

THE NORMAL DEFECT OF VISION IN THE FOVEA. 147

photo-chemical substance for blue. The eyes of the totally
color-blind undergo adaptation.1 The rod-purple in their
eyes, therefore, suffers changes in its quantity exactly as we
should expect it to do from what we know of the substance
elsewhere. There is, therefore, every reason to believe that
it is, like all rod-purple which we have ever examined objec-
tively, completely bleached out in a bright light, and hence
that it is not the sensation-producing substance, but merely
a means of re-inforcement for waning light.

(d). The fact that the adaptation-substance is purple in
color serves a useful purpose. The most common faint
light of nature is the faint light of dense forests, which is
green. The rod-pigment is therefore especially adapted to
the absorption of the only light which penetrates them.
How completely the light at the bottom of forest trees has
been sifted of the light which their leaves absorb has been
shown quite recently by an investigation into the growth (or
rather non-growth) of nearly all ground plants after the
foliage has fully come out in the late spring.2

(e). Almost the only function of the extreme peri-
phery of the eye is the detection of motion, — that is, the
detection of changes in the distribution of light and shade.
The changes in the rod-pigment bring about a constant
complete adaptation to the existing pattern of light and
shade, — build up a counter-pattern, so to speak, upon the
surface of the retina, — and only a new distribution of light
(*'. e., the entrance of an enemy upon the field) causes any
sensation. This function of the periphery is facilitated by
the fact, made out by Ramon y Cayal, that there are numer-
ous large, horizontal connecting cells which must play the
part of re-inforcing a sensation by spreading it over a wide
area, at the same time that they diminish the sharpness of its
localization ; the indistinctness of vision in the periphery has

1 Just before leaving Berlin in September I made a journey to the place where the
color-blind boy above referred to was spending the summer, in order to determine this
point. Hering mentions that his case could see better in a dark room than those
having normal eyes, but he does not say whether his vision improved with time.
( Untersuc hung eines total Farbenblinden. Pfl. Arch. Bd. 54 S. 10.)

* Klebs : Einfluss des Lichtes auf die Fortpftanzung der Gewachse. Biol. Cen-
tralbl. XIII, 641.

148 CHRISTINE LADD FRANKLIN.

long been known to be much greater than the indistinctness
of the image formed there would account for.

(/). If the rod-pigment, in both of its stages, is merely a
reinforcement agent, then all theories of light-sensation (ex-
cept, indeed, that of Ebbinghaus, which loses whatever
plausibleness it may be supposed to have had) may be con-
sidered to remain very much in the same condition in which
they were before.

IV. PROCEEDINGS OF THE THIRD ANNUAL
MEETING OF THE AMERICAN PSYCHO-
LOGICAL ASSOCIATION.

PRINCETON UNIVERSITY, PRINCETON, N. J., 1894.

REPORT OF THE SECRETARY AND TREASURER FOR 1894:

The third annual meeting of the American Psychological
Association was held at Princeton College, Princeton, N. J.,
on Dec. 27 and 28, 1894. Prof. William James, President
of the Association, presided over the sessions, which lasted
from 10.30 A. M. on Dec. 27 to 4.30 P. M. on Dec. 28. Presi-
dent Patton, of Princeton College, made an address of wel-
come on Thursday afternoon, and entertained the members
of the Association in the evening, after the address of the
President of the Association. Abstracts of the papers read
at the meeting are subjoined. Papers by Prof. Starr and
Prof. Hume were presented in the absence of their authors,
and papers offered by Prof. Jastrow, Prof. Delabarre, Prof.
Titchener, Mr. Pierce and Dr. Witmer were not read.

The members in attendance were : Alexander, Baldwin,
Cattell, Chrysostom, Farrand, Hyslop, Franklin, James,
Ladd, MacDonald, Marshall, Mead, Mezes, Mills, Miller,
Newbold, Ormond, Pace, Royce, Sanford, Strong, Warren
— twenty-two in all. In addition, the sessions were well
attended by professors and advanced students from the dif-
ferent universities and colleges.

The following nominations for membership were made
by the council, and the elections were made by the Associa-
tion:

Prof. Archibald Alexander, New York.

Dr. John Bigham, University of Michigan.

Prof. Charles L. Dana, Bellevue Medical College.

149

1 50 MEE TING OF AMERICAN PS YCHOLOGICAL A SSOCIA TION.

Mr. E. A. Kirkpatrick,
Dr. A. Kirschmann,
Prof. S. E. Mezes,
Mr. W. T. Shaw,
Prof. James Seth,
Prof. Paul Shorey,
Prof. H. M. Stanley,
Miss M. Washburn,

Winona, Minn.
University of Toronto.
University of Texas.
Wesleyan University.
Brown University.
University of Chicago.
Lake Forest University.
Wells College.

A constitution was adopted, as follows :

CONSTITUTION OF THE AMERICAN PSYCHOLOGICAL ASSO-
CIATION.

ART. I. Object. — The object of the Association is the
advancement of Psychology as a science. Those are eligi-
ble for membership who are engaged in this work.

ART. II. The Council. — A Council shall be elected from
the members of the Association as an executive. The Coun-
cil shall consist of six members, two being elected annually
for a term of three years. The President shall be ex-officia
a member of the Council. The Council shall nominate officers
for the Association, shall nominate new members, and shall
make other recommendations concerning the conduct of
the Association. The resolutions of the Council shall be
brought before the Association and decided by a majority
vote.

ART. III. Officers. — There shall be annually nominated
by the Council and elected by the Association a President,
a Secretary, and a Treasurer, who shall perform the usual
duties of these officers.

ART. IV. Annual Subscription. — The annual subscription
shall be $3, in advance. Non-payment of dues for two con-
secutive years shall be considered as equivalent to resigna-
tion from the Association.

ART. V. Executive Committee. — The President, the Sec-
retary, and a member from the place where the meeting is
held, shall be a committee to make necessary arrangements
for the annual meeting.

TREA S URER' S RE FOR T. I 5 I

ART. VI. Proceedings. — Such proceedings shall be printed
by the Secretary as the Association may direct.

ART. VII. Amendments. — Amendments to the Constitu-
tion must be adopted by a majority vote at two consecutive
annual meetings.

As prescribed by the Constitution, a Council was elected
as follows :

Term expiring 1897:

Prof. G. T. Ladd, Yale University.

Prof. J. McKeen Cattell, Columbia College.

Term expiring 1896:

Prof. J. Mark Baldwin, Princeton College.
Prof. William James, Harvard University.

Term expiring 1895 :

Prof. John Dewey, University of Chicago.

Prof. G. S. Fullerton, University of Pennsylvania.

Prof. J. McKeen Cattell was elected President and Prof.
E. C. Sanford Secretary and Treasurer for the coming year.

An invitation was received from the American Society of
Naturalists, inviting the Association to affiliate with it. The
question was referred to the Council, with power to act.
Invitations were received for the meeting of 1895 from
Harvard University and the University of Chicago. The
decision as to place of meeting was left with the Council,
with the recommendation that the convention meet, if possi-
ble, at the same time and place as the Society of Naturalists.
It was resolved that the minutes should be printed in such
journals as were prepared to print them in full.

The report of the Treasurer is as follows :
Receipts :

Balance on hand, $69.50

2 dues, 1893, 6.00

38 dues, 1894, 114.00

Sales of Proceedings, . . ... • ^o

$191.10

1 52 MEE TING OF AMERICAN PS YCHOLOGICAL A SSOCIA TION.

Expenditures :

Printing Proceedings for 1893, as per

Messrs. Macmillan & Co.'s voucher,

Postage, expressage and stationery, .

$63.93

Balance on hand, $127.17

The account was audited by the Council and approved.

J. MCKEEN CATTELL,

Secretary, 1894..

ABSTRACTS OF PAPERS.

(i.) The Knowing of Things Together. Address by the Presi-
dent, Prof. WILLIAM JAMES, Harvard University.

The synthetic unity of consciousness is one of the great
dividing questions in the philosophy of mind. We know
things singly through as many distinct mental states. But
on another occasion we may know the same things together
through one state. The problem is as to the relation of the
previous many states to the later one state. It will not do
to make the mere statement of this problem incidentally in-
volve a particular solution, as we should if we formulated
the fact to be explained as the combination of many states of
mind into one. The fact presents itself, in the first instance,
as the knowing of many things together, and it is in those terms
that the solution must be approached.

In the first place, what is knowing? I. Conceptual know-
ing is an external relation between a state of mind and
remote objects. If the state of mind, through a context of
associates which the world supplies, leads to the objects
smoothly and terminates there, we say it knows them. 2.
Intuitive knowing is the identity of what, taken in one world-
context, we call mental content and in another object. In
neither i nor 2 is there involved any mysterious self-trans-
cendency or presence in absence. 3. This mystery does,
however, seem involved in the relation between the parts of a
mental content itself. In the minimum real state of conscious-
ness, that of the passing moment, past and present are known

A BS TRA CTS OF PA PERS. I 5 3

at once. In desire, memory, etc., earlier and later elements
are directly felt to call for or fulfil each other, and without
this sense of mutuality in their parts, such states do not
exist. Here is presence in absence ; here knowing together ;
here the original prototype of what we mean by knowledge.
This ultimate synthetic nature of the smallest real phenom-
enon of consciousness can neither be explained nor circum-
vented.

We can only trace the particular conditions by which
particular contents come thus to figure with all their parts
at once in consciousness. Several attempts were then briefly
passed in review. Mere synchronical sense-impression is
not a sufficient condition. An additional inner event is re-
quired. The event has been described : physiologically as i)
'attention;' as 2) ideational processes added to the sensorial
processes, the latter giving unity, the former manyness ; as
3) motor synergy of processes ; psychologically as 4) the
thinking of relations between the parts of the content-object;
as 5) the relating of each part to the self ; spiritually as 6) an
act of the soul; transcendentally as 7) the diminution (by
unknown causes, possibly physiological) of the obstruction
or limitation which the organism imposes on the natural
knowing-of-all-things-together by an Absolute Mind. For
transcendentalism the problem is, * How are things known
separately at all ? '

The speaker dealt with these opinions critically, not
espousing either one himself. He concluded by abandoning
the attempt made in his Principles of Psychology to formu-
late mental states as integers, and to refer all plurality to the
objects known by them. Practically, the metaphysical view
cannot be excluded from psychology-books. ' Contents' have
parts, because in intuitive knowledge contents and objects
are identical; and Psychology, even as a 'natural science,'
will find it easier to solve her problem of tracing the condi-
tions that determine what objects shall be known together,
by speaking of ' contents ' as complex unities.

[The address is printed in full in the Psychological Review
for March, 1895.]

154 MEETING OF AMERICAN PSYCHOLOGICAL ASSOCIA TION.

(2.) Minor Studies, and Notes on New Apparatus. By Dr.
E. C. SANFORD, Clark University.

The four papers reported were on the following topics :
(i) Comparative Observations on the Indirect Color Range
of Children, Adults, and Adults Trained in Color, by Geo..
W. A. Luckey. (This study was made in the Psychological
Laboratory of the Leland Stanford, Jr., University); (2) A
Study of Individual Psychology, by Miss Caroline Miles;
(3) The Memory-span and Attention, by Dr. Arthur H.
Daniels; (4) On the Least Observable Interval between
Stimuli addressed to Disparate Senses and to Different Or-
gans of the same Sense, by Miss Alice J. Hamlin ; (5) Notes.
on the Binocular Stroboscope, a Model of the Hemispheri-
cal Field of Regard, and Diagrams for an Optical Illusion,
by E. C. Sanford. [All of these papers are published in
full in the American Journal of Psychology, Vol. VI., No. 4,
Jan., 1895.]

(3.) The Psychic Development of Young Animals and its Physi-
cal Correlation. By T. WESLEY MILLS, Professor of
Physiology in McGill University, Montreal.

As the comparative method, embryology and the doc-
trine of organic evolution have revolutionized biology, it
must be expected that they or their analogies will at least
greatly modify modern psychology. To learn how and when
psychic processes originate is a long step towards understand-
ing them ; and as these processes in animals lower in the
scale than man are presumably simple, it is desirable that
they be studied both in the mature animal and in the young
developing one. Accordingly the writer has for some years
been engaged in this task, and has now made fairly complete
researches on the psychic development of the dog, cat, rab-
bit, guinea-pig, etc.

An attempt has been made to keep a record in the form
of a diary, not only of psychic, but of contemporaneous phy-
sical changes. A special series of experiments has been
made on the brains of young animals, with a view of deter-
mining when cortical localization is established, in what
order, etc. This work is not yet complete. Incidentally,

ABSTRA C TS OF PA PEKS. I 5 5

the subject of localization in the mature animal has been in-
vestigated, and some generally accepted conclusions found
unreliable, as well as others confirmed.

(4.) On the Distribution of Exceptional Ability. By Professor
J. McKEEN CATTELL, Columbia College.

A study of the mental traits and of the works of great
men forms an interesting chapter in psychology ; and while
we are undertaking to make psychology an exact science, it
is an advantage to secure quantitative results. When anec-
dotes are published telling us that certain great men have
inherited or bequeathed their talents, were insane, immoral,,
precocious, versatile or the like, it is of interest; but we
sometimes imagine that other examples might be quoted
with opposite results, or similar traits found in ordinary
people.

We need to be able to affirm that a man, who has accom-
plished work making him eminent, is more likely to be in-
sane (according to a proper definition of insanity) than the
average man, in a given ratio ; and that this ratio varies in
such and such a way for men whose work or character was
of a given definable sort. And so in all cases quantitative
results should be secured. We should be able to say that a
man who is a great painter is just so much more likely to be
a great poet as well, than is a great soldier, or than, is the
average man.

The first requirement for such a study is a list of great
men secured by an objective method. The 1000 most emi-
nent men have been selected by collating the space given to
them in different biographical dictionaries and encyclopae-
dias. The method secures impartiality and an assignable
degree of accuracy, it being possible to give a probable
error to each man. The list, of course, only gives a man!s
place in contemporary interest, but this would agree closely
with the average verdict of the best judges as to his import-
ance in history. The exact composition of the list is not
indeed a matter of much importance for the end in view,
an objectively selected list of great men being what is
wanted.

1 56 MEETING OF AMERICAN PSYCHOLOGICAL ASSOCIA TION.

The list was shown at the meeting, curves were exhib-
ited demonstrating the distribution in time and race of the
1000 men, and attention was called to some facts brought
out by the curves.

(5.) Sensibility to Pain by Pressure in the Hands of Individuals
of Different Classes, Sexes and Nationalities. By Dr.
ARTHUR MACDONALD, Bureau of Education, Wash-
ington.

Tabular Statement of Results.

RIGHT HAND.

LEFT HAND.

Total
No.

No. requir-
ing more
pressure in

Totals
in kilos.

Avera-
ges,
kilos.

No. requir-
ing m ore
pressure in

Totals,
kilos.

Avera-
ges,
kilos.

£

r. h.

1. h.

I

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

r

American profes-

sional men, . .

20

14

74-50

3-72

5

65-25

3-26

a

American business

men ....

T/1

6

Q £ fy -,

6.08

6

87 7*

6.05

3

American women,

'

0 /• / 3

non-labor'g class

27

13

93-25

3-45

6

91.83

3.38

4

English profession-

al men, ....

17

9

88.50

5.20

6

87.25

5-13

5

English women,

non-labor'g class

7

4

43-00

6.14

2

44.25

6.32

6

"rerman profession-

al men

6

5

3L25

5-20

I

29.OO

4.83

7

Salvation Army

members, Lon-

8

6

73 2?

Q ie

2

5I.OO

7 62

B

Slum men in Chap-

/ j* *• j

y* * D

j • ^^

el Rouge, Paris.

9

3

122.50

13.61

2

119.50

13.27

9

Boston Army of the

unemployed, . .

34

16

332.50

9-77

14

333-75

9.81

TO

Women in ' ' Mai-

sons de Tol-

ance," Paris, . .

9

3

82.00

9.00

5

84.25

9-36

TI

Epileptic patients,

laboring people.

3

i

28.00

9-33

i

27.OO

9.00

12

Ddd ones, men, in

Paris

7

4

28.25

4-03

3

26.25

3-75

1$

Odd ones, men, in

different coun-

18

10

96.25

5.34

5

89.50

4-97

tries, ....

M

15

VI en in general, .
Women in general

142

46

76

21

1012.75
230.50

7.13
5.oi

49
15

979-50
233.08

6.89
5.06

The experiments reported were made incidentally upon
different classes of people. Quite a number of university
specialists interested in the subject were experimented upon.

ABSTRACTS OF PAPERS. 157

The middle of the palmar fossa was chosen, and Professor
Cattell's Algometer was employed.

Should these results prove to be generally true by ex-
periments on larger numbers of people, the following state-
ments would be probable : The majority of people are more
sensitive to pain in their left hand (only exception is No. 10,
cols. 4 and 7).

Women are more sensitive to pain than men (Nos. 14 and
15, cols. 6 and 9). Exceptions are: comp. Nos. 4 and 5,
cols. 6 and 9. It does not necessarily follow that women
cannot endure more pain than men.

American professional men are more sensitive to pain
than American business men (comp. Nos. I and 2, cols. 6
and 9) ; and also than English or German professional men
(comp. Nos. i, 4 and 6, cols. 6 and 9). •

The laboring classes are much less sensitive to pain than
the non-laboring classes (comp. Nos. i, 2 and 9, cols. 6 and 9).

The women of the lower classes are much less sensitive
to pain than those of the better classes (comp. Nos. 3, 5 and
10, cols. 6 and 9). In general, the more developed the ner-
vous system, the more sensitive it is to pain.

Remark. — While the thickness of tissue on the hand has
some influence, it has by no means so much as one might
suppose, a priori ; for many with thin hands require much
pressure (Nos. 5 and 10, cols. 6 and 9).

(6). The Freedom of the Will. By BROTHER CHRYSOSTOM,
Manhattan College, New York.

The positive results of the latest studies of the will,
through introspection and experiment, are in striking accord
with the teachings of the Schoolmen. The appetencies of
Aristotle have been replaced by conation, which, if considered
in the form of attention, is either unequivocally conditioned,
and then corresponds to the sensitive appetition of scholastic
philosophy, or is equivocally conditioned, and then does not
essentially differ from the volition of earlier philosophers.
But since equivocally conditioned attention may include
among the objects attended to even the attending subject, it
must be a spiritual action, for matter is incapable of such

I 5 8 MEE TING OF AMERICAN PS YCHOLOGICAL A SSOCIA TION.

reflexive process. In other words, the attending mind is a
rational soul. In this light apperception may be characterized
as the distinctive quality of conation. But apperception
supposes at least such intellective action as is contained in
conception, and this in turn supposes sensation ; and thus a
point of contact is made with Miinsterberg's theory.

Neither a purely autogenetic nor a purely heterogenetic
theory of will accounts for all the facts. For conation is not
a mere combination of sensations, nor a resultant of affection
and sensation, nor does it consist in affection alone. Again
peripheral excitation fails to account for the active element
of conation, while exclusively central excitation overlooks
external influence. We must then adopt a theory midway
between the two extremes. Wundt, therefore, must be held
to state rather the physiological correlate than the psychical
fact.

The chief difficulty as to the freedom of the will is found
in its connection with the law of causality, which law, how-
ever, belongs to the domain of metaphysics, only indeter-
minism coming within the limits of psychology. Cause
essentially connotes the inflowing of the agent upon some
subject. But free and uncaused are not synonyms. All
action of the will is voluntary, yet not all its action is free.
For although the presentation of pleasurable or painful ob-
jects to the will, i. e., the motives, together with the agent's
temperament and general subjective condition determine the
spontaneous impulse of his will, yet it is a fact of conscious
experience that he often can and does put forth at the same
time an anti-impulsive effort. Only actions made under these
conditions are rightly called free, and they imply essentially
the power to will or not to will.

Yet the law of causality, even in that narrower meaning
which obtains in the physical sciences, also applies to free
.actions in the mass, for we can determine with more or less
probability what men taken generally will do under given
circumstances. In conclusion, Wundt's assertion that a free
act is necessarily an uncaused one, is virtually an admission
that the will is superior to material force, and is therefore
spiritual.

ABSTRACTS OF PAPERS. 159

(7). The Consciousness of Identity and So-called Double Con-
sciousness. By Professor GEORGE T. LADD, Yale
University.

The questions in debate concerning the consciousness of
identity and so-called double consciousness cannot be in-
telligently discussed without a critical examination of the
conceptions involved. What then do we mean when we
speak of a thing, or a mind, as remaining < identical' or self-
same, through various changes of state? To uncritical
thought it doubtless seems as though some unchanging
' core ' of reality belonged to every being of which we feel
ourselves entitled to speak in this way. But philosophi-
cal criticism seems rather to assure us only of the propo-
sition : The real identity of anything consists in this, that its
self-activity manifests itself, in all its different relations to other
things as conforming to law, or to some immanent idea.

From this it follows that change, in itself, is not incon-
sistent with identity being maintained. On the contrary,
it is the very character of the actual changes observed or
inferred which leads either to the affirmation or to the denial
of identity. This principle may be applied to whatever is
popularly called a thing, and also to those hypothetical ele-
ments of all material things, the so-called atoms.

When we turn to consider the peculiar identity of mind,
we find that the affirmation of such identity can never be
taken as a denial of change. Indeed, the very real being of
rnind seems dependent upon change, — in the form, namely,
of successive states of consciousness. So that the variety
and greatness of the changes experienced may heighten
rather than diminish the reality and validity of the conscious-
ness of identity, properly described and understood.

Now if we inquire in what consists this conscious identity,
we see that it is, and can be, nothing but that which is
given to consciousness, in all states of self-consciousness, of
recognitive memory, and of reflective thinking about the
Self. To have these states of consciousness is to- be con-
scious of being identical and self-same. And degrees of the
^consciousness .of identity, as it were, are connected neces-
sarily with all r£al mental development.

l6o MEETING OF AMERICAN PSYCHOLOGICAL ASSOCIATION.

In accordance with this metaphysical analysis we may
hopefully, and even confidently, venture upon the attempt to
account for the phenomena of so-called double consciousness,
in accordance with certain well-known psychological prin-
ciples. Of these one may be spoken of as the principle of
'psychic automatism.' Under this principle we note in
many of our most familiar experiences such a diremption of
successive states, or of very complex present states into two-
fold combinations of elements, as makes the full impression
of two interacting personalities, rather than of one person.
Yet very subtle and unrecognized or dimly recognized in-
fluences of one upon the other, of the Self-conscious Ego
upon the automaton, or the reverse, may be distinguished by
psychology. All this is popularly expressed either by say-
ing, 'I have the automaton,' or « the automaton has me;'
'I am the automaton,' or 'the automaton is not me.'
Illustrations of all this may be derived from the simpler or
more complex bodily operations as under the influence of
semi-conscious states, and in turn influencing them ; from
many deeds of skill and valor, and even of a seemingly high
order of intelligence; from the phenomena of artistic and
religious inspiration, etc.

Closely akin to this is the most effective working of
another principle, which we will call that of a < dramatic
sundering of the Ego.' We can more or less consciously
and intentionally, or as forced by circumstances, so ' put
ourselves into' another character as virtually to divide the
Self into two or more selves, whose appropriate states of
consciousness either follow in rapid succession or seem to
occur almost simultaneously. The phenomena of dreams,
the plays of children, the experience of many actors, the
phenomena of certain states of inspiration, the imaginative
genius of certain writers, like Balzac notably, are instances
in point here. Indeed, the very nature of ethical conscious-
ness, in its highest form of manifestation, necessarily seems
to involve such a dramatic sundering of the Ego. In not
very infrequent cases, three interacting personalities become
manifest in consciousness. These may be described as the-

ABSTRACTS OF PAPERS. l6l

tempter, or bad angel, the good angel, and the Self as the
'torn one,' between the two.

In fine, it seems fair to expect that by a further under-
standing and more extended application of these, and per-
haps other cognate psychological principles, even the most
extreme hypnotic cases of so-called double-consciousness
may finally be explained.

(8.) A Preliminary Report on a Research into the Psychology of
Imitation. By Prof. JOSIAH ROYCE, Harvard Uni-
versity.

This report first briefly described a collection of experi-
ments now under way at the Harvard Psychological Labora-
tory, and then passed to some reflections, suggested by
these experiments, relating to the definition of the functions
to be grouped together under the name of Imitation. As
the text of the report is to appear in THE PSYCHOLOGICAL
REVIEW, the present summary need not be extended. The
experiments, which at present are only in their first begin-
ning, have thus far been confined to the imitation of some-
what complex series of taps, given by an electric hammer,
and arranged in rhythms. The subjects of the experiments
imitate the taps, after hearing each rhythm, through repeat-
ing the hammer-strokes by means of an electric key. The
rhythms, as given and as imitated, are recorded on the
kymograph. The effects of habit, in successive imitations
of the same rhythm, the influence of speed, and of other
factors upon success in imitation, are under study. The
complexity of the rhythms studied in these experiments
forms one special difference of this enterprise when com-
pared with other experimental studies of rhythm. For the
purpose is to study, not the rhythmic consciousness as such,
but the imitative functions.

Notes of subjective experiences, taken down during or
immediately after each experiment by the subjects con-
cerned, have already given the suggestion for those consid-
erations concerning the definition of imitation with which
the major part of the report was taken up.

1 62 MEETING OF AMERICAN PSYCHOLOGICAL ASSOCIA TION.

(9.) The Classification of Pain. By Prof. CHARLES A.
STRONG, University of Chicago.

This paper was a discussion of the current theory that
pleasure and pain are always given as aspects of a content
distinct from themselves — the feeling-tone, < quale,' or aspect
theory. It sought to test this theory by considering its
application to the case of cutaneous pain.

(1) Neurologically, we know no facts in regard to cuta-
neous pain which decisively contradict the theory. For
special pain-nerves are more than doubtful ; and there is a
symptom of locomotor ataxia, consisting in hyperalgesia to
heat or cold without hyperalgesia to pressure and even with
analgesia to pricking and pinching, which seems to prove
that some pains are distinctively pains of temperature. The
condition of analgesia, moreover, while it implies distinct
paths for pain in the spinal cord, may be reconciled with the
aspect theory by holding that the sensations called forth
through these paths is a tactile or temperature sensation in
painful phase.

(2) But, introspectively, it is impossible in certain cases
to carry out the analysis for which the aspect theory calls.
Extreme pressure, heat and cold produce the same sensa-
tion— a sensation not of heat or cold or pressure, but simply
of pain. This sensation (Schmerz) does not admit of analy-
sis; it is impossible to separate it into a content and an
accompanying feeling-tone. But it may call forth an emo-
tional reaction in the shape of a feeling of the disagreeable
or intolerable (Unlusf).

In conclusion, the inference was drawn that pain, being a
sensation, may be localized and may leave behind images.

[The paper will be printed in the PSYCHOLOGICAL
REVIEW for May, 1895.]

(10). A Theory of Emotions from the Physiological Standpoint.
By Prof. G. H. MEAD, University of Chicago.

Prof. Dewey having shown that it is possible to make a
complete teleological statement of the emotions along the
line of the discharge theory, it is interesting to see how far
such a statement may be paralleled by a physiological theory.

ABSTRACTS OF PAPERS. 163

This would involve, also, a physiological theory of pleasure
and pain. As pain can be differentiated from the sensations
in connection with which it generally appears in conscious-
ness, as it shows itself under circumstances in which the
tissue of the end organs or the nerves themselves are affected,
and as in the diseases in which we find pain as a constant
concomitant, those parts are affected, which are richly sup-
plied with blood vessels by means of supporting and nourish-
ing tissues (Rindfleiscli s inter me didrer Erndhrungsapparaf],
and as in those diseases which pass usually without pain
{as in the catarrhs of the various mucous membranes) the
tissues affected are poorly supplied with such blood vessels,
and enter into relation with the capillaries generally through
the lymph, for the purposes of secretion, it becomes at
least probable that, physiologically, pain may be considered
as the interference through poisons or violence or otherwise
with the process of nutrition as carried out in the finer
arteries and blood vessels. Pleasure must from this stand-
point be considered as physiologically the normal or rather
hightened process of nutrition in the organs, and the nerve
paths which connect these with the central nervous system
would be probably the sympathetic.

In the simple instinctive act that lies behind every emo-
tion, the vaso-motor system is called into action by the
enlargement of the small blood vessels in the muscles and
sweat glands. To maintain the blood pressure the finer
blood vessels in the abdominal tracts are closed by the con-
strictors of that region, and the action of the heart may also
be increased by the accelerators. The vaso-motor system
thus is, in these simpler instinctive acts, in automatic con-
nection with the senso-motor. The act must commence
before the flow of blood can take place. It is in con-
nection with this increased flow of blood that we have to
assume the emotional tones of consciousness arise according
to the discharge theory. Within the act it would answer
only to interest. It is in the preparation for action that we
find the qualitatively different emotional tones, and here we
find increased flow of blood before the act. We find also
what we may term symbolic stimuli, which tend to arouse

1 64 MEE TING OF AMERICAN PS YCHOL OGICAL A S SO CIA TION.

the vaso-motor processes that are originally called out only
by the instinctive acts. These stimuli in the form in which
we can study them, seem to be more or less rhythmical repe-
titions of those moments in the act itself which call forth
especially the vaso-motor response. In this form they are
recognized as aesthetic stimuli, and may be best studied in
the war and love dances. It is under the influence of stimuli
of this general character that the emotional states and their
physiological parallels arise. The teleology of these states
is that of giving the organism an evaluation of the act before
the coordination that leads to the particular reaction has
been completed.

(n). Desire as the Essence of Pleasure and Pain. By Dr.
D. S. MILLER, Bryn Mawr College.

Pleasure and pain, in the discussion now going forward
as to their classification and physical basis, are commonly
treated as among our passive sensory experiences; at all
events, it would seem to most psychologists a somewhat
stupid paradox to assert that they were in any sense motor
phenomena. Yet there is solid ground for holding this
paradox; for maintaining, at least, that pleasantness (the
quality which, along with their specific differences of char-
acter, marks all so-called pleasures) and painfulness (the
quality which, along with their specific differences of char-
acter, marks all so-called pains) are essentially motor facts.
A pain is an intolerable feeling ; different as they are among
themselves, all pains have this, at least, in common, that
they are intolerable. No other feeling is intolerable ; if it
were we should call it a pain. It would, then, not be easy
to refute the proposition that painfulness is intolerableness ;
that so-called pains have no other common class-attribute.
Now intolerableness is the quality of uniformly provoking a
certain bodily disquietude or rebellion, issuing, where the
nature of the case permits, in an attempt to escape from the
offending irritant. And this is a motor phenomenon. The
various disagreeables (a term with which 'pains' in my mean-
ing is convertible) a needle-prick, a headache, a burn, the
numb internal ache of cold hands, the taste of quinine,, the

ABSTRA CTS OF PAPERS. 1 6 5

smell of assafoetida, the scratching of a slate-pencil, 'gnaw-
ing pains,' 'shooting pains/ muscular fatigue, disappoint-
ment, humiliation — these have no such intrinsic resemblance
in sensational complexion as we find among different sights
or sounds — between the members of the class of visual, or of
the class of auditory sensations; they are similar only in the
extrinsic fact that they all alike are accompanied by a
bodily reaction — some flinching or shuddering or convulsion,
some restiveness or inner tension — which tends then and
afterwards to pass into movements of avoidance, escape or
repulse. Now these movements and the tendencies to them
are what we know as aversion in its various forms and
degrees.

If painfulness is intolerableness, pleasantness, on similar
grounds, is the quality of being welcome. The bodily re-
action of gusto is as characteristic, though not so obtrusive
as that of intolerance ; and it tends to pass into movements
of retention or procurement. These movements and the
tendencies to them are what we know as desire in its various
forms and degrees.

(12.) Pleasure and Pain Defined. By Prof. SIDNEY E. MEZES,
University of Texas.

It is necessary to find some fact or group of facts that is
present whenever we experience pleasure and absent when-
ever we do not, and another fact or group of facts present
and absent with pain. The frequent confusion of unpleas-
ants with pains is very misleading. Unpleasants are of
three kinds: memories and expectations, sensational un-
pleasants that are not pains — bitter tastes, e. g. — and sensa-
tional unpleasants that are pains — a toothache, e. g. We
have here to define pleasure and the unpleasant. Attempts
have been made to define pleasure-pains as sensations, as
emotions, and as making up the genus of which sensations
and emotions are two species. The fact that there is evi-
dence for each of the first two theories shows that neither
is exhaustive and competent. Besides the existence of pleas-
ant and unpleasant memories, expectations and fancies inval-
idates all three. Many hold that pleasure-pains are ultimate

1 66 MEETING OF AMERICAN PSYCHOLOGICAL ASSOCIA TION.

ideas, simple and undefinable, like colors. There are strong
positive objections to this theory, but negatively, and for
our purposes, it suffices that this theory is a last resort, and.
that its supporters must overthrow all other theories before
legitimately claiming it as established. This theory is valu-
able and true in so far as it points out that neither pleasures,
as a whole nor unpleasants as a whole have any properties,
in common. It overlooks the possibility that there may be
something invariably co-present with pleasures and some-
other invariably co-present with pains ; and that these two*
may be the signs to us of the presence of pleasures and
pains, — what induces us to call a state pleasant or unpleas-
ant. Now Plato, Aristotle, Hobbes, Kant, and Schopen-
hauer agree that harmony or good adjustment is the mark
of pleasure, ill-adjustment that of pain. Not all these wri-
ters point out the terms between which the adjustment is to-
obtain, but recently Wundt and Ward have held that the
adjustment is of attention to its object. This immediately
plausible suggestion of attention and adjustment must be
examined. Clearly what is not attended to is indifferent
since uninteresting. Further immediate attention to pleas-
ures is not the same as that to pains : the former is easy and
natural, the latter enforced and obstructed. Again derived
attention, always to unpleasants, is invariably obstructed by
the more pleasant rivals to attention also present. May
it not be that attention without obstruction is the mark of
pleasure, attention with obstruction that of pain? The evi-
dence for this view may be thus suggested : All states of
intensely concentrated attention are pleasant, hard thinking,
hard play, strenuous work; all states of internal conflict-
hesitation, practical puzzle, co-present irreconcilable im-
pulses, morbidly insistent ideas, etc. — are unpleasant; and
further physical pains, owing to their great intensity, rever-
berate widely and naturally set up mutually obstructive
reflexes. The paper appears in the Philos. Rev., Jan., 1895.

(13.) Emotions versus Pleasure -Pain. By Mr. HENRY RUT-
GERS MARSHALL, New York.

Mr. Marshall reviewed his < genetic ' argument in rela-
tion to the Emotions, emphasizing the contention that the

ABSTRACTS OF PAPERS. 1 67

typical Emotions are named because (i°) they correspond to
relatively fixed relations between the physical elements
reacting, and because (2°) these reactions are immediate.
Failure of these two conditions can be traced where ' in-
stinct feelings ' have no emotional names. Emotions are in
their nature irregular in recurrence, and to be of value must
be forceful in reaction ; hence Emotions are not usually lost
to consciousness as many * instinct feelings ' are, although,
if these Emotions become rhythmical and weak, they act as
other states do in relation to fixity of habit. Pleasure and
pain relate to organic, while Emotions relate to individual or
racial, effectiveness or ineffectiveness ; therefore their gene-
sis cannot be considered to have been coincident in time, nor
to be of the same type.

The identification of Emotion and Pleasure-Pain in * Feel-
ing ' is dependent upon the validity of the tripartite division
of mind ; which is upheld by metaplvysical postulation but
not by psychological evidence. Prof. Croom Robertson
argued that the exhaustive categories, The True, The Good,
The Beautiful, themselves proved the validity of the divis-
ion. But the existence of the division is explicable in quite
another way, as due to the search for Reality. In relation
to mental experience in general, this search gives us the
True; in relation to Impression, it gives us the Beautiful;
and in relation to Expression, it gives us the Good. If we
are to discard this classical tripartite division, we should be
able to account for its persistence. It results from an at-
tempt to unify two diverse classifications, both bipartite;
viz., i°, the receptive-reactive classification, and, 2°, the
subjective-objective classification : Sensation and Intellect
(knowing) being bound together on both the receptive-reac-
tive and on the subjective-objective schemes; Pleasure-Pain
and Emotion (feeling) being bound together on the subject-
ive-objective scheme, the receptive-reactive quality being
unmarked ; Will being marked by a common and coordinate
emphasis of the reactive and also of the objective qualities.
The existence of this tripartite division, thus explained, can
therefore no longer be used as an argument for the bond
between Emotion and Pleasure-Pain, which states are dis-

1 6 8 MEE TING OF A M ERIC A N PS YCHOL 0 GICA L A SSO CIA TION.

tinctly separable, the relation between them being this : The
Emotions are complex psychoses which almost invariably
involve repressions or hypernormal activities, either of
which are determinants either of pleasure or of pain.

(14.) Notes on the Experimental Production of Hallucinations
and Illusions. By Prof. W. ROMAINE NEWBOLD, Uni-
versity of Pennsylvania.

Dr. Newbold reported that in 22 out of 86 cases tried he
had succeeded in producing illusions by causing the patients
to gaze into a transparent or reflecting medium, such as
water, glass, and mirrors. His most successful cases were
found among young women under twenty years of age who
were good visualisers, but as a majority of his subjects were
young women, and as the experiments were by preference
made upon good visualisers, he was not inclined to lay much
stress upon these conditions. The phantasm was usually
preceded by cloudiness, flushes of color or of light in the
medium, and varied from a dim, colorless outline to a fully
developed and brilliantly colored picture. The images were
frequently drawn from the patient's recent visual experience,
were sometimes fantastic and frequently unrecognised. The
successive images were usually associated, if at all, by similar-
ity, but frequently no relation could be discovered between
them. Association by contiguity was excessively rare. The
phantasm was frequently, but not always, destroyed by move-
ments of the medium and by distracting sensory impressions
and motor effort. Occasionally the phantasm was to a con-
siderable degree independent of the medium, persisted for
some time after the removal of the medium, and in one such
case appeared to obey the laws of the after-image. The
importance of such phenomena upon the question as to the
value of the central component in the after-image is obvious.

No trace was observed of telepathic or other supposed
supernormal agency. There seemed to be no reason for
regarding the phantasms of the glass as anything other than
illusions of the ordinary types depending upon the glass as a
point de rfyere. Their chief speculative importance, apart
from the light which they may throw upon the after-image,

ABSTRACTS OF PAPERS. 169

lies in the fact that they present to us processes of associa-
tion by similarity in concrete, sensible form, and in their
possible relation to subconscious ' automatic' processes.
While the phantasms as such cannot be regarded as demon-
strating the existence of such processes, it is probable that,
if subconscious automatism exists, its products may be trace-
able in the phantasms of the glass. It is possible also that
some specific relation exists between the hypnotic conscious-
ness and the phantasm of the glass. Dr. Newbold found that
images unrecognised by the waking consciousness were some-
times recollected by the patient when hypnotised, and, vice
versa, experiments by Mr. F. W. H. Myers have shown that
a tale related in hypnosis is sometimes presented in the glass
externalised in dramatic form.

[This paper is to be printed in full in an early number of
the PSYCHOLOGICAL REVIEW.]

(15.) Experiments on Dermal Pain. By HAROLD GRIFFING,
Ph.D., Columbia College.

By means of an algometer transmitting pressure up to 15
kilog. the average pain threshold was found to be for 40
college students, 5.5 ; for 38 law students, 7.8; for 98 women,
3.6; for 50 boys, 12-15 years of age, 4.8. The palm of the
hand was the place of stimulation. The most sensitive parts
of the body are those where the skin is not separated from
the bone by muscular and other tissues.

In 80 experiments on two observers the area was variable,
areas of 10 mm., 30 mm., 90 mm. and 270 mm. being given.
The corresponding average values of the pain threshold
were 1.4 kilog., 2.8 kilog., 4.4 kilog. and 6.6 kilog. Thus
the pain threshold increases with the area of stimulation, but
much more slowly than in direct proportion.

The time in which dermal stimuli of different intensities
cause pain was found by noting the time that elapsed before
the appearance of pain after weights had been placed in a
balance pan in such a way as to press upon the hand. The
averages in seconds, based upon 80 experiments on two ob-
servers, are as follows: For 100 g., 230 sec. ; for 200 g., 35
sec.; for 300 g., 10 sec. ; for 500 g., 4.5 sec. Thus the time,

170 MEETING OF AMERICAN PSYCHOLOGICAL ASSOCIATION.

as well as the area and intensity of stimulation, are factors im
dermal pain. There is, moreover, an intensive limit below
which pressure stimuli never cause pain. Above this limit
the sensory effect of the time seems to be in direct propor-
tion to that of intensity.

The pain threshold for falling weights was found to
depend as much upon the height as the mass. As both the
height and mass are proportional to the kinetic energy of
the moving mass, the stimulus for dermal pain in impact
must be considered the energy of the striking object.

(16.) The Normal Night-Blindness of the Fovea. By CHRISTINE.
LADD FRANKLIN, Baltimore.

Konig's announcement in May, 1894, of the very close
coincidence of the curve showing the distribution of bright-
ness along the spectrum for (i) the totally color-blind and
(2) the normal eye in a faint light, with the curve of relative
absorption of different portions of the spectrum by the visual
purple (and the obvious inference therefrom that the vision
of the totally color-blind and that of the normal eye in a
faint light are conditioned by the presence of the visual pur-
ple in the retina) made necessary some assumption to take
account of the fact that no visual purple has hitherto been
found in the fovea. Two assumptions were possible, — either
that the cones (and hence the fovea) do contain visual purple,
but of such an extremely decomposable character that it can
never be detected objectively ; or, that the eye of the totally
color-blind person, and the normal eye in a faint light, are
actually blind in the fovea. As I had already made the
prediction that total color-blindness consists in a defective
development of the cones of the retina (Ztsch. f. Psych, u.
Phys. der Sinnesorgane, Bd. IV., 1892) and also that the adap-
tation which renders vision possible after twenty minutes in
a faint light is conditioned by the growth of the visual pur-
ple (Mind, N. S. III., p. 103) — both predictions being nat-
urally suggested by my theory of light-sensation — I was
most anxious to put the latter assumption to the test. I
therefore undertook to determine, in the dark rooms of Prof.
Konig's laboratory, the threshold for light-sensation for dif-

ABSTRACTS OF PAPERS. \ J I

ferent parts of the retina and for different kinds of mono-
chromatic light (the full results of this investigation will
appear later). The blindness of the fovea for faint light did
not at once reveal itself; the act of fixation means holding
the eye so that an image falls on the part of the retina best
adapted for seeing it, and hence it would involve keeping the
image oiit of the fovea in a faint light, if the fovea were really
blind in a faint light. But after the total disappearance of
the small bright object looked at had several times occurred
by accident, it became possible to execute the motion of the
eye necessary to secure it at pleasure. It was then found
that the simple device of presenting a group of small bright
objects to the eye of the observer was sufficient to demon-
strate the 'normal night-blindness of the fovea' (as it may
best be called) without any difficulty, — one or the other of
them is sure to fall into the dark hole of the fovea by acci-
dent. It was only by means of this arragement of a number
of small bright spots that the total blindness in the fovea of
the totally color-blind boy could be detected, — he had, of
course, learned not to use his fovea in fixation. Prof. Konig
then proceeded to demonstrate the total blindness in the
fovea of the normal eye to blue light of wave-length about
X47O.1 [These experiments upon the normal eye were exhib-
ited at Princeton.] It was shown that Konig's proof that the
pigment-epithelium is the only layer of the retina which is
affected by red, yellow and green light is not wholly con-
clusive. The interpretation of the new facts, and their
bearing upon the several theories of light-sensation, were
discussed. [This paper appears in full in the PSYCHOLO-
GICAL REVIEW for March, 1895.]

(18.) The Muscular Sense und its Location in the Brain Cortex.
By Prof. M. ALLEN STARR, New York.

[This paper was presented in the absence of Prof. Starr.
It may be found in full in the number of the PSYCHOLOGICAL
REVIEW for January, 1895.]

1 Prof. v. Kries is said to have shown that the experiments in question do not
establish the blue-blindness of the fovea (Berichte der naturforschenden Gesellschaft
zu Freibttrg, IX., 2, S. 61). I have not yet had access to this criticism.

1 72 MEE TING OF AMERICAN PSYCHOLOGICAL A SSOCIA TION.

(19.) Psychology in the University of Toronto. Prof. J. G.
HUME, University of Toronto.

In the University of Toronto we begin the work in Psy-
chology, etc., in the Sophomore year. Up to that time the
students are engaged in language studies, mathematics,
English history, chemistry, biology, etc. After the Sopho-
more year they still continue some of this language study as
supplemental to the philosophical course. The latter, begin-
ning with psychology, logic and theory of knowledge in the
second year, psychology, logic, theory of ethics, history of
ethics and history of philosophy in the third year, keep
extending until, in the fourth year, those who have selected
this course give all their time to the subjects of the course
without any supplemental work, taking, in the fourth year,
psychology, ethics, history of philosophy, special readinj
in the original of various selections from the whole period
of modern philosophy, giving special attention to Kant and
Lotze.

In experimental psychology : Second year, 2d part of
the year: Demonstrations from the Director, explanation of
methods and practice. In the third year, during the whole
year, the class, divided into groups, is under the charge of
the Director of the Laboratory. In the fourth year they
are supposed to be able to undertake experiments of an inde-
pendent character. Some of the inquiries started in the
fourth year are continued in post-graduate work.

In the present fourth year there are sixteen honor students
conducting four sets of experiments, that is, in four groups,
with four in each group: I. On Time reactions (Mechanical
registration instead of the Chronoscope); II. Discrimination
of Geometrical Figures and Letters in the Field of Indirect
Vision; III. Discrimination of Color-saturation; IV. Di;
crimination and Reproduction of Rhythmic Intervals. Ii
post-graduate study there are two enquiries being continue(
from last year: I. Estimation of Surface-magnitude; II. On
Certain Optical Illusions. The Director of the Laboratory,
Dr. August Kirschmann, has in the press a recently finished
investigation upon the nature of the perception of metallic
lustre.

[This paper was presented in the absence of Prof. Hume.]

DISCUSSION.
THE SENSATIONS ARE NOT THE EMOTION.

The tendency to assume that the peculiar sensations involved in
any psychological fact are the fact itself, comes out strongly in the
present discussion over emotion.

When it is shown, for instance, that apart from certain visceral
and vaso-motor sensations there is no emotion worth speaking of,
we are asked to view emotion and these sensations as identical.
Why should we not, quite as well, take emotion to be merely a flutter
of thought or a special aspect of attention ? Apart from these, there
is likewise no * coarse ' emotion.

In fact emotion requires the bodily sensations, but it requires
them to be under definite mental conditions which are as indispen-
sable as the sensations themselves. In the first place, some interest
which will divert the attention so that these sensations may play the
part of mere 'fringe,' is doubtless an important condition for the
life of the sensations, but it is also more. Such an interest keeps
the sensations in a peculiar relation to the whole mental field. So
that the sudden loss of emotion when attention is turned to the
body, is probably due less to the fading of the essential sensations
than to their reversed relation in the general mental state. Momen-
tarily even during strong excitement, so my observation goes, we
can glance at the bodily commotion while many of its most striking
elements continue vigorous. We may even cut down between them
and us, viewing them as outsiders, as confusion of the body and not
of the thinking itself. Instead of strong emotion the state instantly
changes to one, say, of psychological query not markedly emotional.
The next instant the attention is away, the sensations surge back
over the thought, the point of interest is seen through the confusion,
and the state is unmistakably emotional. As far as I could make
out, the sensation-substrate of the two states is about the same, and
yet the states themselves are decidedly different.

In emotion we feel that there is confusion in us, — in this end of
the relation. But when we turn upon the bodily sensations them-
selves, the confusion seems to go over to the other end of the

173

1/4 A CORRECTION.

relation. The object of attention now is in turmoil, but the thought-
process itself may for a moment be comparatively calm. The state
then need not be emotional, though the object watched is disturbed
enough.

It is difficult to give the facts in less figurative language. But
substituting the classic figures, we may say that for a state to be
emotional it requires a special character of ' form ' as well as a
special character of 'matter,' whether this matter be taken as sen-
sation or 'tone' or both. In the general upheaval, the operations
which relate the sensations are usually more or less disordered. The
central nervous processes act spasmodically. Thought is wavering,
and the confused bodily sensations seem part and parcel of the con-
fused thinking. But these sensations are by no means equivalent to
the emotion. They are merely one abstract aspect of the emotion,
of which other important (though likewise abstract) aspects are the
rush and whirl of thought, and the special relation of the sensations
to the mental field.

LEIPZIG. GEORGE M. STRATTON.

A CORRECTION.

On p. 72 of the last number of the PSYCHOLOGICAL REVIEW an
omission was made in my abstract of the Sidgwick report on hallu-
cinations which makes the calculated figure of 1300 on line 9 from
the top of the page unintelligible. The figure calculated from the
premises which I quote is 1400, for which my text substitutes 1300
with no motive assigned. The motive obeyed by the authors of the
report is the probable untrustworthiness of accounts of apparitions
falling within the first ten years of the informant's life. Such
visions are subtracted by the committee both from the total number
of recognized apparitions and from the number of coincidental
apparitions [See Proceedings of S. P. R., pp. 65, 247]. They form
8 per cent, of the former, so that my abstract of the calculation
should have dealt with ^ of 350 instead of 350. This makes 322,
a figure which multiplied by 4 gives 1288. For this the committee
substitute 1300, as a 'round number,' slightly more favorable to
the adversary. W. J.

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE.

Philosophical Remains of George Croom Robertson. With a Memoir.
Edited by A. BAIN and T. WHITTAKER. London, Williams &
Norgate, 1894. Pp. XXIV + 481.

In this volume we have, with the exception of the little book on
Hobbes and one or two historical articles, all Robertson's philosophi-
cal writings. This goodly volume, however, is more than half com-
posed by the republication of shorter articles, critical notices, and
notes from Mind. An outsider may well wonder why a good deal of
this should have been reprinted. The explanation is simple. Robert-
son held a high reputation in England as a teacher of philosophy.
This reputation owed something to the startling and sensational man-
ner in which he appeared on the philosophic scene, when, as a youth
of 25, and quite unknown beyond his own Scotch University, he was
elected Professor of Philosophy at University College, London, over
the head of Dr. James Martineau. This election, due to the strong
backing of his teacher Dr. Bain, and Bain's friend George Grote,
showed at least that there were some who expected high things of
the Aberdeen youth. And their expectations were not disappointed.
Robertson proved to be an excellent teacher, endowed with the
peculiar gift of guiding the young learner into the labyrinth of phil-
osophic complexities by help of a few well defined clues. To some
his lectures were too elementary, and moved too slowly, but to the
average student they were exceptionally helpful. He soon began to
be known in London society as an authority on philosophical ques-
tions. He was a member of the oddly-named Metaphysical Society,
the raison d'etre of which is said to have been the desire of Lord
Tennyson, expressed to his faithful attendant, Mr. James Knowles,
to ascertain whether he had a soul, though it soon became evident that
the experts, viz., the theologians of all creeds and the scientists, who
were called in to decide the great question, were much more con-
cerned to attack one another's views. Robertson could hardly have
felt quite comfortable here, yet he managed to get this * metaphysi-
cal ' omnium gatherum, or rather a portion of it, to listen to one or
two papers of his own. Outside this society his influence steadily

175

1 76 PHILOSOPHICAL REMAINS OF GEO. CROOM ROBERTSON.

grew. His appointment to the editorship of Mind in 1876, when
that journal led the way among English and American philosophical
serials, greatly widened the sphere of his influence. This brought
him later on into touch with Prof. W. James and other Americans
as well as with French and German thinkers. The present given
to him by contributors on his retiring from Mind two or three years
ago showed how warmly he had attached many by his excellent con-
duct of the journal. For some years his house was the rallying point
of the small band of philosophic students of which London could
then boast. Leslie Stephen, Shadworth Hodgson, F. Pollock (not
then the baronet), F. Gurney, F. Galton, myself, and others, were
often to be found there. W. James joined the circle the winter he
remained in London. At this time Robertson's talk, which in spite
of an occasional smack of the cathedral manner, was distinctly goodr
gave him prominence in such social gatherings. There was an
energy, an alertness, tempered by an Aberdeen 'canniness,' which
made him impressive, and he often had a happy way of cutting into a
dialectic tangle and extricating the point of real importance. A
painful illness was soon to compel him to retire from much of this
old social life.

It was necessary to say so much about Robertson's personality as.
well as his teaching and editorial work in order to explain these
Philosophical Remains. For a glance at them tells the reader that
their collection is the outcome of a feeling of piety. But for this
we certainly should not have had reprinted some of the critical
notices which in these days of rapid psychological advance already
look out of date. The truth is, as he more than once confessed to-
me, Robertson was not a ready writer. This indeed betrays itself in
the literary manner, which, though it has a decided character and
certain good qualities, is apt to become awkward even to the point
of contortion. The very pains-taking to be clear, to limit a statement
to the dimensions of strict accuracy, ended by destroying smoothness.

While there were these half mechanical difficulties in the way of
literary production, there was I think another reason for its paucity.
There is no evidence that Robertson was ever fully possessed by an
impulse to write a considerable philosophical work. The work on
which he was supposed, for many years after his appointment at
University College, to be engaged, was a study of Hobbes. His little
book, which appeared in the 'Philosophical Classics' series, into,
which the results of these years' study were compressed, shows no»
doubt careful scholarship, and close critical study of his subject and
its historical relations. Yet it does not I think suggest any large

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 1 77

and important originality of thought. It strikes one in reading these
Remains that Robertson had the freshness of view that goes to make
a critical expositor and teacher rather than a true constructive origi-
nality. As a teacher he was never so happy as when reading and
expounding some philosophic classic to one of his small class of
advanced students. The very fact that his one book was mainly a
historical exposition seems to say that his bent lay in the direction of
philosophic exegesis and of historical criticism. The same impres-
sion is, I think, borne out by the Remains. The best critical notices
seem to me to be those of works on the history of philosophy. Other
articles, not dealing directly with the history of the subject, show the
same tendencies. Thus the excellent article on 'Axiom,' and in a
less degree also the other longer articles reprinted from the Encyclo-
pedia Britannica, viz., 'Analysis,' and 'Association of Ideas,' show
how Robertson's strength lay in what one may call the expository
clarification of ideas. The way in which the word 'Axiom' has come
to mean the different things it does is admirably traced out by a
happy combination of accurate historical learning and logical co-
ordinative power. These papers are in their way models of Encyclo-
pedia articles. They show the same qualities, accuracy, perspicacity,
grasp, and, what is equally important, a clearly recognizable method,
which helped to make him an eminent teacher.

It is time, however, in writing a notice of Robertson's work, for
a psychological journal to say something about his work on
psychology. As the most distinguished pupil of Alexander Bain, for
many years the commanding influence in British psychology, as the
hearer of Lotze and other distinguished Europeans, Robertson was
always looked on, more than anything else, as a psychologist. And
this way of regarding him was in the main justified. He put for-
ward in an admirably clear and convincing manner the claims of psy-
chology to be the propsedeutik among philosophers' disciplines. The
position is made clear in the introductory lecture which he gave on
his appointment to the chair of University College, and is made
still clearer in an article on 'Psychology and Philosophy,' published
in Mind. The establishment of this journal which, as Bain gen-
erously allows in his far too short memoir prefixed to the Remains,
was in considerable part Robertson's work, was intended, as its title
and its editorial preface clearly showed, to give fundamental prom-
inence to psychological work and thought, and this intention was
never lost sight of. Although there was no experimental psychology
in England, and the later experimental work in America had not
begun, Robertson managed to get together a good deal of valuable

1 78 PHILOSOPHICAL REMAINS OF GEO. CROOM ROBERTSON.

contribution ; so that Mind will long remain an important work of
reference for psychologists. His own contributions to the journal
show that his mind was fairly engaged with all the newer researches,
psychological and physiological, which bear on the understanding of
mental processes. Here, however, one recognizes rather the skill
with which newer results are brought into relation to older ideas than
original contribution, the setting forth of new and luminous psycho-
logical ideas. Now and again no doubt there is an attempt to elabo-
rate a new conception, as where in the article on ' Axiom ' he seeks
to apply the muscular theory of space-consciousness to the problem
of mathematical axioms and to show that (as Kant said in his way)
by " acting constructively in our experience, both of number and of
form, we, in a manner, make the ultimate relations of both to be
what for us they must be in all circumstances" (p. 129). More am-
bitious is the attempt to get over the difficulty of the genesis of space-
consciousness by saying that we know thing or object as resistant
before we know extension or space, that the successions of muscular
experience by which we come to know extension, somehow get trans-
formed into the intuitive of space by being referred to the more fund-
amental object-intuition (p. 279 ff.). It is not quite easy to seize
Robertson's exact drift here. Much of what he writes here looks as
if he thought the psychologists' task was to explain the objective
reference of a space-consciousness already existent, rather than to
account for the form or structure of this space-consciousness itself.
Yet while these contributions to psychological discussion are not as
impressive as one might have expected, they are fresh and suggestive,
and they make one regret that Robertson did not give a fuller state-
ment of his views on other perplexing points.

Yet Robertson's friends, at heart, will value this volume as a re-
flection of the mind and, in some respects, of the character they
knew and valued. If it gives us no striking contribution to the
field of modern psychological research, it shows us the eager and pa-
tient spirit resolved to track ideas to their sources and their elements ;
it shows us the born teacher to whom luminous apprehension of truth
must express itself in no less luminous an exposition. Such men are
as great benefactors as the writers of works. Robertson's devotion
to philosophic work, which, as Leslie Stephens' enthusiastic letter tells
us, became almost heroic, when for years it had to contend with
most unstable health and bouts of prostrating physical suffering, de-
serves a permanent record in America hardly less than in England.

UNIVERSITY COLLEGE, LONDON. J. S.

PS YCHOLOGICAL LITER A TURE. 1 79

Lectures on Human and Animal Psychology. W. WUNDT. Translated
by J. E. Creighton and E. B. Titchener. London, Sonnenshein;
New York, Macmillan. 1894. Pp. X-f-454.

A few years ago a new edition of Professor Wundt's celebrated
book Vorlesungen iiber Menschen-und Thierseele appeared. The first
edition was written thirty years ago at a time when the problems of
empirical psychology had just begun to be realized in all their sig-
nificance. Since that time psychology as an experimental science has
greatly developed ; it has adopted and devised exact methods of
research ; it has followed out carefully many investigations and
proved by the results, that the same mathematical accuracy, with
which natural sciences like physics and astronomy carry out their
work, may be applied successfully to the natural science of mind.
The necessity of a psychological way of viewing the facts besides the
physical is in our days universally acknowledged. The new edition
of the book mentioned is thoroughly revised by the addition of the
results of recent investigations and by the omission of every thing
which has not stood the test of greater light.1 In size the book has
been considerably reduced, by dropping those discussions which have
now developed into a certain independence as special sciences, such
as Social Psychology. The book is arranged in thirty lectures, the
first thirteen treating Sensation and Presentation. In Lects. 14 to
20, the Feelings and their Relations, the Theories of Association and
Apperception are treated. The last part of the book, Lects. 21 to
30, deals with the more complicated problems of animal and human
psychical life: Mentality of Higher Animals, Development of Intel-
lectual Functions, Instinctive and Voluntary Actions, Mental Dis-
turbances, Dreams, the Hypnotic and Posthypnotic phenomena, etc.,
closing with a discussion of the ultimate questions of psychology
and their philosophical bearing.

Messrs. Creighton and Titchener are fortunate in having fur-
nished us with a carefully prepared and excellent translation of this
book into English ; and many who wish to become acquainted with
the ideas of this German philosopher, whose efforts have brought
about such wonderful advancement of psychological science, will en-
tertain a sense of gratitude to the translators for saving them the
trouble of seeking their way directly and in the original language
through the more difficult books of the same author.

TORONTO UNIVERSITY. A. KIRSCHMANN.

'A great improvement is also seen in the addition of many good illustrations.

ISO PRIMER OF PSYCHOLOGY.

Primer of Psychology. By G. T. LADD. New York, Charles Scrib-
ner's Sons, 1894. Pp. IX -f- 224.

Professor Ladd's Primer is like his other books in that it is care-
fully written, systematic, and embodies the latest results of psycho-
logical research. It wisely leaves out metaphysical discussion,
confining itself to psychology proper, a feature of especial impor-
tance in view of the class of readers to which it is primarily
addressed. Its style is somewhat unequal, being in parts quite
simple and adapted to immature students, and in parts rather
burdened with scholastic terms which might, I think, have been
avoided. It is not, however, with the use of technical terms that I
chiefly quarrel. One may use a rather large number of such terms
and yet write in a style which is plain, easy, and entertaining. A
book which bears the title of ' Primer' should be written in such a
style. It should be fresh and unstilted, free from all flavor of schol-
asticism,— it should not smack of the professor's chair. Such
books are not easy to write. They can not readily be thrown off
as "a recreation between two much more bulky and serious pieces
of work." They require great skill, not only in the selection of
material, but also in the exposition of the material selected. They
call for a rare insight into and a rare sympathy with the ways of
thinking of young and immature minds, so easily repelled by what is
'dry,' and discouraged from further effort. Learning may be
rather a hindrance than a help in the writing of such books. It may
separate one too far from the class of readers one wishes to reach.

In the present instance I cannot but think that the above criti-
cism may with justice be applied. I do not mean to make the
criticism at all a severe one, for Professor Ladd's book is usually
clear and is well arranged. I should not hesitate to use the
'Primer' with a class of young people. But I have felt in reading
it that it is dry, and that the writer lacks that peculiar gift — a very
rare gift it is — of writing successfully for the young. To do this one
must above all be fresh and simple and natural. One must forget
one's learning, and with it the turns of phrase which are out of
place in the 'Elements of Physiological Psychology' and the
'Introduction to Philosophy.' When one spends one's life among
such, it is, of course, not easy to forget them.

Over the contents of the book I need not linger, as Professor
Ladd's opinions are well known. I wish that in the chapter on feel-
ing he had indicated more clearly the ambiguity of the word.
Certainly the impossibility of describing what is meant by feeling
(P* 53) cannot refer to the complex experiences to which the word is

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. l8l

applied a little later (p. 56). We can at least point out, as Pro-
fessor James has so well done, some of the elements which enter
into these. Such a pointing out of the elements in a complex is
what constitutes description of a thing seen, though, in this
latter case, the analysis is one more readily made. Again, it does
not seem to me likely to aid one in clearing up the psychology of
memory to state that " every act of memory with recognition
transcends the present, and connects the present into a known real
unity with the past ; " and, having thus stared the difficulty boldly
in the face, to pass on with the remark that this is one of the pro-
foundest of all mysteries. The mystery is, I think, not psychologi-
cal, but, if it exist at all, epistemological. In psychology we are
concerned only with the question, "What mental elements are
actually present in a given mind when it recognizes something?"
These elements we may not be able to enumerate, and in so far we
may call them mysterious; but when the problem is stated psycho-
logically it does not, I think, present so hopeless an aspect as it does
when stated as it is by Professor Ladd.

In looking over the above I find I have made my criticism more
negative than I had intended. I have not dwelt upon the merits of
the 'Primer' as much as I have upon what appear to me its short-
comings. It was perhaps as well to do this, for it goes without
saying that a new book by Professor Ladd should have the strong
points which characterize his other books. The author has been too
long in the field, and is too well known, to make it necessary to
praise him. G. S. F.

The Elements of Metaphysics. PAUL DEUSSEN. Translated from the
Second Edition by C. M. Duff. London and New York, Mac-
millan & Co. Pp. XXIV + 337.

Dr. Deussen, the author of the Elements, has been known for years
as an enthusiastic student of Indian Philosophy and a representative
of that school of Orientalists who reject the negative conceptions
that have been historically associated with Buddhism and follow
Cankara as the true interpreter of Hindu Metaphysics. Dr. Deussen's
own philosophical position is Kanto-Schopenhauerian. Kant he asserts
was the first discoverer of the true principle of philosophy, while
Schopenhauer alone has developed that principle truly and said the
last word in metaphysics. This being the author's faith his work is
on the whole a pretty faithful reproduction of the philosophy of these
masters.

182

THE ELEMENTS OF METAPHYSICS.

Dr. Deussen starts with a distinction between Science and Philo-
sophy. The standpoint of science is empirical and materialistic.
Materialism can be overcome only in the transcendental standpoint
of philosophy which regards the world under the dual Kantian
categories of phenomena and things in themselves. This Kantian
distinction has been translated by Schopenhauer into corresponding
subjective terms, intellect or reason, and will. The world is dual,
it is a world of intellect and a world of will. Now, the intellect
whose innate forms are space, time and causality is a purely phe-
nomenal faculty through which the will projects a world in space and
time and causal connection. But this world is appearance and not
reality. The intellect is material in its objective constitution, being
identical with the brain. But this whole world of the intellect is ap-
pearance and must be transcended in order that the world of reality
may be reached.

The thing in itself, or real, is the will whose central motive is the
striving for life or self-realization. This striving of will expresses
itself as the Platonic ideas in the physical forces of the world, thus
grounding the phenomenal world in its deeper dynamic aspect. Dr.
Deussen makes a tripartite division of transcendental philosophy into
the metaphysics of nature, of the beautiful, and of morality. The
main ideas of the first division have been given above. In nature
which also includes the ordinary phenomena of man, the will does
not manifest its archetypes as they are in themselves, in their 'un-
spoiled form and beauty,' but only an adumbration of these. For
the more adequate expression we must pass first to the Metaphysics
of the Beautiful and finally to the Metaphysics of Morality. Nature
is the expression of the affirmation of the will to life which is em-
pirical, individual, egoistic. It can be transcended only by denial
through which alone is a door opened into the heart of reality. Now,
art in its feeling for the beautiful which Kant defines as a * disinter-
ested delight,' enters this door through a kind of self-forgetting of
the will. The will is affirmative in its nature and does not care for
things in themselves, but only as they affect it. But in the art-feel-
ing this egoism drops temporarily out of sight and the will experi-
ences a delight in that which has no reference to itself. This is a
contradiction which art cannot explain and we are led on to morality
for its solution. It is only in morality and religion that the phenom-
enal world and its contradictions are actually transcended.

Dr. Deussen's treatment of the metaphysics of morality embraces
the following essential points, (i) The tripartite classification of
the will-functions under the dual categories, Physics and Metaphysics,

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 183

giving the following: — Thinking as empirical and transcendental;
Perceiving as individual and aesthetic; Acting as affirming and deny-
ing; the metaphysical exercise of these functions giving respectively,
Philosophy, Art, Religion. (2) The principle of sin and evil which
is egoistic affirmation. This is the root of both sin and suffering.
(3) The Principle of Morality which is denial. Salvation from sin
and suffering only comes through the denial of the will to life. (4)
The way of achieving this self-denial of will. This includes, (a) the
classification of springs of action arising from Affirmation and Denial;
from the former malice and egoism, representing Paganisms; from the
latter, compassion and asceticism, being the dominating motives of
Christianity; (b) the two paths to self-denial, sympathy and suffer-
ing; (c) also the steps by which denial is achieved, justice, love, as-
ceticism. (5) The goal of morality which may be expressed in various
ways as the Kingdom of Heaven, Blessedness, Peace that passeth
understanding, Nirvana. This state, as Deussen conceives it, is
reached by a transcendence of individuality, but it is not purely
negative. It is a state of positive experience and the denial itself
cannot, therefore, be absolute.

Here, I think, we strike a crucial point in the metaphysics which
Deussen represents. It seeks to make denial the last word in re-
ligious philosophy. But it manifestly is not the last word if the
goal, the kingdom of heaven, nirvana, is not purely negative. In
morality we strike a dualism between a lower and a higher self, as a
basal fact. In the light of this, egoism becomes the affirmation of
the lower self. But in its relation to the higher self it is denial and
what the metaphysics which Deussen represents, calls denial, is in
truth the denial of denial and is thus a higher affirmation. I do not
see how the last word of morality and religion can be anything else
than affirmation, an affirmation in which the highest self is realized.

From the psychological point of view Deussen's book possesses
several points of interest. In common with the writers of his school
he has done service to psychology in the emphasis he places upon the
will. But just here, I think, we strike the greatest psychological de-
fect of the school ; its tendency to divorce too completely the intel-
lect from the will. The inevitable result of this is a shallow con-
ception of the intellect on the one hand and the identification of will
with blind instinct, on the other. Between the two the teleological
character of consciousness is lost sight of or inadequately treated.
Again while Dr. Deussen's work is rich in fragments of psychological
analysis, it is almost totally lacking in dynamic and genetic concep-
tions. Perhaps this is an unfair criticism to make on a work in met-

1 84 ETHICAL.

aphysics. But I think our whole metaphysical conception of the re-
lation of phenomena to an absolute ground, or, in Kantian phrase,
to things in themselves, will be profoundly affected by our psycho-
logical faith on this point. If we admit the genetic idea in psy-
chology our whole world will become impenetrated with dynamism
and it will no longer be possible to treat the phenomenal as mere ap-
pearance.

But enough of criticism. Dr. Deussen's metaphysics is one of
the most valuable of the many works that have been appearing lately
in English. And its English dress is in every way worthy of it and
creditable to the translator. It is a book that no one can read
seriously without getting rich suggestions and having his spiritual in-
tuition greatly quickened. And the fine religious spirit that per-
vades it will commend it to every one who values the religious aspect
of philosophy. A. T. ORMOND.

PRINCETON.

ETHICAL.

The Elements of Ethics. J. H. HYSLOP. New York, Charles Scrib-
ner's Sons, 1895. Pp. VII., 476.

Dr. Hyslop's book might appropriately be entitled an analytic of
Logical Conceptions. Its purpose is critical and analytic rather than
constructive. The work has been done with that thoroughness and
detail which we would expect from a man of Dr. Hyslop's ability and
logical equipment.

After defining ethics and considering the sense in which it is a
science, and its relations to other sciences, in his introduction, the
author gives in Chapter II a very interesting digest of the history of
ethical thought in ancient, mediaeval and modern times down to
Hume. This is valuable in itself and a very good Introduction to
the discussions which follow. Chapter III is devoted to defining
terms and stating and defining the elements entering into the ethical
problem. In chapter IV on the Freedom of the Will, the most con-
spicuously able chapter in the book, Dr. Hyslop distinguishes the
various species of freedom, identifies moral freedom with velleity or
power of alternative choice, defends it against necessitarian objec-
tion and shows how man's physiological mechanism, through its
function of inhibition, adapts him to the exercise of free choice and
volition. The bearing of heredity and environment and the general
question of motives are treated with ability and discrimination. Dr.
Hyslop rejects indeterminism and identifies freedomism with the

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 1 8$

species of determinism which recognizes the possibility of alternative
choice. The discussion on freedom prepares the way for a discrim-
inating analysis of Responsibility and Punishment in Chapter V.
Chapters VI and VII treat of the Nature and Origin of Conscience.
The analysis of conscience is interesting but need not delay us. In
his chapter on the Origin of Conscience Dr. Hyslop discusses nativism
and empiricism, and their various subdivisions. He is a nativist and
yet gives generous recognition to empiricism in both its individ-
ualistic and evolutionary forms. Nativistic theories include three
species, Theism, Naturalism and Intuitionism. Distinguishing two
forms of Intuitionism, general and special, Dr. Hyslop accepts the
former which affirms an original power distinguishing right and
wrong, but not the right and wrong of particular acts, as the theory
that is best borne out by the facts. This enables him to admit the
claims of empiricism to a large extent and to recognize a wide sphere
for evolution in developing morality out of its elements. The only
concept of evolution which Dr. Hyslop rejects is that which ascribes
to it a creative function and claims that morality can be developed
out of conditions that contain none of it. From this point of view
the theories of Darwin and Spencer are criticised and the position
is combatted that the theory of evolution necessitates any radical
reconstruction of ethical theory. In Chapter VIII, theories of the
nature of morality are classified and discussed. Adopting a classifi-
cation based on the end or summum bonum. Dr. Hyslop divides theories
generally into Hedonism and Moralism. The Hedonistic theories
agree in making pleasure or happiness the moral end and divide into
Egoistic Hedonism and Utilitarianism. Moralism sets either excel-
lence or duty as the end and this divides into Perfectionism and
Formalism or, as some writers call it, Rigorism. A careful analysis
of these conceptions of the end reveals elements of value in them all
and supplies the data for a more adequate synthesis. The last two
chapters, IX and X, discuss the important topics, Morality and
Religion, and the Theory of Rights and Duties.

The merits of Dr. Hyslop's book are so great as to make criticism
seem almost impertinent. I venture, however, to note several
points on which I think a little more explicitness would be desirable.
First, regarding freedom. Dr. Hyslop appears to limit the power
of alternative choice to means. But is there not also a choice of
ends, and is not this more of the essence of freedom than the mere
choice of means ? If our nature determines our end must it not
supply dual alternatives for choice between higher and lower ends ?
Again, gradations of freedom are recognized and Dr. Hyslop

1 86 ETHICAL.

is willing to admit that some people may have very little
of it. Does he mean velleity, and if so must he not recognize a
more vital connection between heredity and freedom than he seems
willing to admit. Secondly, it seems to me, and will perhaps strike
others in the same way, that Dr. Hyslop has carried the legitimate
distinction between the questions of origin and validity so far as
to lose sight, partially, of the vital bearing which theories of origin
must have on questions of validity. In spite of the logical separ-
ation, our psychogeny will determine largely the complexion of our
metaphysics. And in this connection it seems to me that evolu-
tion has a more vital relation to ethical theory than Dr. Hyslop
allows to it in his discussion. Lastly, respecting the relation of
morality and religion, while agreeing with Dr. Hyslop's major
proposition that the validity of moral science is not to be staked
on the acceptance of any religious postulate, and with nearly all
that is said in connection with it, I still feel that the religious
thinker will have some grounds, in view of the whole discussion, for
thinking that the problem has not been treated with sufficient in-
sight. He will be likely to think that religion has been pushed a
little too much to one side, and that just as it is possible to recognize
the full right and independence of science in the sphere of its own
categories, and yet to subsume it under the categories of meta-
physics, so in the case of religion it is possible to recognize the full
right and independence of moral science, while at the same time sub-
suming it under the categories of religion. The religious thinker
will be disposed to regard the relation as one rather of comprehen-
sion and harmony, than of exclusion and mutual conflict.

But the faults of Dr. Hyslop's book are few compared with its
merits. I feel under a great debt of personal obligation to the
author for his masterly and luminous analysis. For the task that Dr.
Hyslop has performed there was great need in this country and the
work has been thoroughly done. His book is the most notable of
recent contributions to the science, and will give him a front rank
among ethical thinkers. It will also tend to raise the plane of
ethical discussion in this country, and to put the problems of
morality in a position where they can be more sharply defined and
more intelligently treated. A. T. ORMOND.

PRINCETON.

Johnson's Universal Cyclopaedia. Vols. I-V (A — Mozambique). New
York, Johnson Co., 1894.

The striking feature of the philosophic content of this Cyclopaedia
compared, not simply with former editions of itself, but also with

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 187

other cyclopaedias, is the much more adequate attention given to
psychological topics. This may not unreasonably be attributed, I
suppose, to the presence among its editors of Professor Baldwin;
just as the editorial care of Dr. Harris had previously made the
metaphysical side of philosophy more prominent in Johnson's than
in any other save the Britannica. There seems to be particularly good
reason for ascribing the difference to the interest of Prof. Baldwin
in the fact that it is only in the fourth and fifth volumes, after Prof.
Baldwin is well installed in the editorial chair, that the psychological
articles become numerous. Some of the psychological topics which
are so unfortunate as to begin with A or B, are in quite striking con-
trast to the accuracy and fullness of the later articles. The article
on Association of Ideas, for example, gives a fair descriptive state-
ment, but is quite innocent of modern problems and methods, to say
nothing of results. In contrast with the definitely experimental tone
pervading the later articles, it is somewhat startling to read regard-
ing association, that the search for a physiological solution is in
vain, and to find the following proposition set forth as an explana-
tion: "This wonderful power of the human mind is part of the per-
fection which it owes to the Great Being who is its author."

The letters G, H and / are fortunately very rich in psychological
captions and the comparative barrenness of the earlier pages is more
than made good. I know of no better way to give an idea of the
variety of topics treated than to give a running list of the more
important subjects: Genetic Psychology, Genius, Habit, Hedonism,
Hypnotism, Ideal Feelings (Emotion), Ideals, Illusion, Imagination,
Imitation, Impulse, Innervation, Instinct, and Insanity, all by Pro-
fessor Baldwin; Generalization, Hegel, Hindu Philosophy, Idea,
Idealism, Identity, Immortality, Infinite, by Dr. Harris, and Intui-
tionalism, by the present writer. The article on Histology by Dr.
Piersol should also be mentioned. In general, it may be noted that
the neurological side is quite carefully looked after.

To go into as much detail regarding all the letters would render
this notice a catalogue, not a review, but the articles on Localization
(in space and of brain functions) and upon Motive by Professor
Baldwin, and that by Dr. Cattell upon memory should be noted. It
is in no way invidious to any of the other articles to say that the
article upon memory is in respect to its objectivity, lucidity and
presentation of current scientific problems and method, a model of
what cyclopaedia information should be.

Several of Professor Baldwin's articles seem to me a distinct ad-
vance upon his own statement of the same subject in his Psychology.

1 88 ETHICAL.

The idea is more definitely put, and the style more precise. There
are many of these articles to which not only the ' general reader,'
but the psychological specialist will turn with interest, and, judging
from my own case (if I may venture for the nonce to pose as a spe-
cialist) with profit. The article, for example, on impulse is highly
suggestive ; the reference of impulse to the central apparatus as
representing the growth of the whole system, rather than to a specific
stimulus, appears to be a very decided advance upon previous efforts
to discriminate impulse from reflex-action. The article upon imita-
tion is excellent, as we should expect from one who has made the
psychology of that subject peculiarly his own. The article upon
emotion (under the caption of Ideal Feeling) is admirable, save the at-
tempt to state the theories offered in explanation. Of course not
everything can be given in such an account ; and yet surely, the
contribution of James-Lange is too important, whether accepted or
rejected, to be so briefly summed up. The attempt of Darwin to
explain emotional expressions might well have received some at-
tention. The article on Imagination would have been helped by
reference to the concrete investigations in imagery; but aside from
that it is well done. (There is a heading Generic Image, referring one
to image, but the latter does not appear as a distinct topic ; it may
also be noted in this connection that a q. v. to Insistent Ideas is found
in the article upon Illusion, but no such caption occurs.) The article
upon Genetic Psychology is too short to give Prof. Baldwin a fair
opportunity, but fortunately we shall soon have a chance to read a
fuller expression of his views. This present account is clear and
full within its limits. But I wonder when I read the following :
"Suppose we say, with many psychologists, that volition is neces-
sary to all adaptive muscular efforts ; an appeal to the child shows
us so many facts to the contrary that we are able to bring genetic
psychology to refute the position." I do not wonder at Prof. Bald-
win's saying this ; on the contrary, it is true enough to immediate
facts. But I wonder if the final outcome of the appeal to the child
will not be to change the ready-made concept of volition which
serves as the standard in the above instance, and to generalize the
idea of volition by making it equivalent to all acquired coordination.
However, I might go on indefinitely commenting upon points of in-
terest. I shall fulfill my duty better if I divert the attention both of
psychologists and the general public to the unusually full and sug-
gestive discussion of psychological topics to be found in this last
edition of Johnson's cyclopaedia. Teachers will find its great value
for reference further increased by the generally good and up-to-date
bibliographies. J. D.

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 189

EVOLUTION AND BIOLOGY.

From the Greeks to Darwin. H. F. OSBORN. Columbia University

Biological Series, No. i. New York and London. Macmillan,

1894. Pp. X+259.
Amphioxas and the Ancestry of the Vertebrates. A. WILLEY. Columbia

University Biological Series, No. 2. New York and London.

Macmillan, 1894. Pp. XIV -f 316.

In these two volumes we have the beginning of a biological series
which promises to be of importance for psychologists, since the topics
of these and other volumes announced are the broader and more
philosophical ones in the settlement of which the theory of the
mental life is also involved. Prof. Osborn traces the history of the
evolution idea before Darwin in an interesting way and with great
perspicuity of style. From the psychologist's point of view more
reference to mental development might possibly have been made ;
and yet it may be that the author found that his intimations of Dar-
winism before Darwin were not capable of such a reference. The
book of Dr. Willey deals with the very vital question of the ancestry
of the vertebrates; and while the conclusions upon the broader matters
of descent are not large, still psychologists should know many more
facts than they do of just the sifted kind which are here given. Our
space only allows us to recommend these books, not on our own au-
thority indeed, but as already approved by the biological authorities
to whom we must defer.

The Factors in Organic Evolution. D. S. JORDAN. Boston, Ginn &

Co., 1894. Pp. V+I49.

It is difficult to see what purpose this volume can serve. Dr.
Jordan prints a great mass of catch-sentences, clauses, and words
under the main headings of current evolution thought, sometimes
calling upon his colleagues to treat special topics in the same brief
and unsuggestive way. It is possible, of course, that the author
may find such a « syllabus ' useful in the hands of his classes, while
he himself fills out the outline by lecturing. But why he should pub-
lish it — why ? Those readers who know what the terms and catch-
words mean, and know intelligently, do not need to be reminded of
the categories of the subject ; and those who do not, are not taught.
Possibly a few teachers who lack time to plan their own lectures
may follow the author's skeleton. The peculiar way of printing the
book with double blank pages throughout would seem to indicate
that this is the writer's idea. But time-limits and sense-limits in
different schools and colleges are so different that independent men
will probably prefer to do their own schematization.

190 CHILD PSYCHOLOGY.

Illustrated Dictionary of Medicine, Biology, and Allied Sciences. G. M.

GOULD. Philadelphia, Blakiston, 1894. Pp. XV 4-1633.
The ' Dictionary ' falls midway between two others which psy-
chologists, who can afford them all, ought to have : One is Tuke's
Dictionary of Psychological Medicine, and the other is Quain's Medical
Dictionary (2d ed. 1894). Gould's book is more properly a dictionary,
while the others are more properly encyclopedias. As a dictionary,
Gould's work defines, in a reliable way, the terms of the whole group
of cognate branches which touch upon biology and ought to serve a
very useful purpose to psychologists, especially in these days when
pathology, on one side, and development on the other, are bringing
medicine and biology into such close touch with our own proper
study. The present reviewer is not competent to criticise the def-
initions except as they are in his field ; but judging from the sample
topics in which he feels at home, and from the auspices under which
the work appears, it seems altogether reliable. It is a pity more
terms were not drawn from psychology for the benefit of the phys-
icians and biologists who will be the main buyers ; for they need in-
struction in general psychology.

Epitome of the Synthetic Philosophy. F. H. COLLINS. London, Williams

and Norgate, 1894. 3d ed. Pp. XlX-f 639.
The original * epitome ' by Mr. Collins is now so well known that
we need only call attention to this late edition. Its advance on the
earlier editions is of course apparent, since it includes Mr. Spencer's
last publications. The compiler indicates just what the addition is
in these words : "By Mr. Spencer's kind permission I am enabled
to include in this edition an abridgment to one-tenth (the propor-
tion which holds all the way through) of his recent Principles of Ethics.
The present volume thus represents in miniature the whole of The
Synthetic Philosophy at present published."

J. M. B.

CHILD PSYCHOLOGY.

Notes on the Development of a Child. M. W. SHINN. Part II. Uni-
versity of California Studies. Vol. I, Berkeley, 1894. Pp.
89-178.

This is the second installment of Miss Shinn's valuable observa-
tions on her little niece. The paging is continuous through the
two parts, making a total so far of 178 large pamphlet pages. The
notes on the sense of sight are brought to a close by a chapter on
* Sight in the Third Year,' then Hearing, the Dermal Senses, Taste

PS YCHOLOGICAL LITERA TURE. 1 9 1

and Smell are treated. By the end of the second year the discrim-
ination of colors was practically complete, but no aesthetic interest
in color-arrangements was apparent even in the third year. The
child seemed, however, to be conscious of the defects in her
attempts at drawing. Sensitiveness to sounds seemed different at
different times, even apart from the effects of fatigue. Her atten-
tion was attracted by the experience of ' double touch ' (the hands
touching each other) on the 64th day. Sensibility to pain through
hurts or extremes of temperature was very low during the first two
months. " Taste at no time played as large a part among the
child's interests," as the author expected. "To see others eating a
favorite food was often desired as a substitute for eating it herself."
If this comparative indifference to tastes was due (as the author
seems to think) largely to training, it seems to me that a point is
suggested here of the very highest pedagogical importance.

De la suggestibility naturelle chez les enfants. A. BINET and V. HENRI.
Revue Philosophique, Oct., 1894. P. 338.

Understanding by 'natural suggestion' that form of influence
which, in ordinary conditions, people exercise upon one another,
the problem was to investigate the effects of natural suggestion upon
the simple judgments of children. The children were graded
according to age, as follows : ist grade, children between seven and
nine ; 2d grade, children between nine and eleven ; 3d grade, chil-
dren between eleven and thirteen. The tests involved suggestions
of three sorts :

(I) The suggestion of a preconceived idea. — Three lines of different
lengths were shown to the child in succession ; then, after a short
interval, a chart was presented to him containing lines varying regu-
larly in length, of which Nos. 5, n and 18 corresponded in length
to the three models ; and he was asked to pick out those lines which
were equal to the models. Then the test was repeated with this
difference : that in the chart now presented to the child the five
longest lines (Nos. 17-21), and therefore the line corresponding to
the third model were lacking. The force of suggestion would be
felt in the expectation, on the child's part, of a uniform experience
in the two tests (especially as in the second case the third model was
shown him, just as in the first), and in his natural timidity and reluc-
tance to declare the absence of the looked-for line, even if he sus-
pected it. Over against this we must place the accuracy of his
judgment and the correctness of his memory. The result was that
a certain number believed themselves to find in the second chart a
line of the length of the third model, and chose accordingly. Now

192 CHILD PSYCHOLOGY.

of these a certain number had in the first test chosen for the third
model a line below No. 16 on the chart of 21 lines. These were
now counted out, for the obvious reason that since they had made
this erroneous judgment, where there was no suggestion, they could
not be presumed to have made it through suggestion in the second
case. The whole experiment was now repeated with the rest, with
the result that the susceptibility to suggestion was, on the average, in
inverse proportion to the child's age. Of the children in the first grade,
88 per cent., in the second 60 per cent., and in the third 47 per
cent, yielded to the suggestion of the preconceived idea and selected
a line for the third model from the second or incomplete chart. So
far we have only judgments based upon memory. Now the child
was allowed to see the model and the chart at the same time (direct
comparison). Using only one model (the third) the results were :
with the complete chart 67 per cent, of the children erred in direct
comparison and 79 per cent, in memory comparison. When the 16-
line chart was used, 38 per cent, made errors in direct comparison
and 65 per cent, in memory comparison. There seemed also, in the
case of direct comparison, more assurance and less timidity, and so
less susceptibility to suggestion, than in the other case.

(II) Verbal Suggestion. — A line 40 mm. long was shown to the
child, and he was asked to choose a line of that length from a chart
as before. At the moment of his doing so, however, the experi-
menter said, in a calm, even voice, and without gesture : 'Are you
quite sure you are right?' The result was that, in the case of
memory-comparison, 89 per cent, of the ist grade children, 80 per
cent, of the 2nd grade, and 54 per cent, of the 3rd grade hesitated
and then changed their selection, under the influence of the verbal
suggestion. In the case of direct comparison the figures are: ist
grade, 74 per cent.; 2nd grade, 73 per cent.; 3rd grade, 48 per
cent. Here, again, the younger the child the less stable his judg-
ment and the more open he is to suggestion. Here, too, we see as
before that fewer errors are made in direct comparison than in
memory-comparison. Again it was observed that those whose judg-
ments were correct were less open to suggestion than the others.
Only 56 per cent, of the former to 88 per cent, of the latter changed
their selections. Again, of those who changed their selection on
account of the suggestion, 81 per cent, changed \tfor the better (i. e.,
for one more nearly correct), only 19 per cent, changed for the
worse. This is surprising, especially in the case of memory-com-
parisons : one would expect that the interruption would have made
the child nervous, and so hindered instead of helping his judgment

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 193

(III) Suggestion in collective experiments. — Taking four pupils at a
time, they are allowed to see the model line and the chart of lines
simultaneously, and then are asked to say, all at once, which line is
equal to the model. Generally they do not all answer together, and
the slow ones come under the suggestion of the quicker ones. In
such cases there is a surprising uniformity among the younger chil-
dren, the older pupils being more independent in their answers.
Yet in all the grades there is a great susceptibility to this sort of
suggestion. The percentage of correct answers was somewhat
higher, when taken in this collective way, than when taken individ-
ually (34 per cent, to 23 per cent.).

A Preliminary Study of Motor Ability. J. A. HANCOCK, Pedagogical
Seminary, Oct., 1894.

This study by Mr. Hancock well deserves the careful study of
all interested in child education. A large number of school chil-
dren from five to seven years of age were tested in various ways to
discover the amount of muscular control they possessed. For full
description of the tests and apparatus and detailed statements of the
results the original article must be consulted. The results can be
stated here only partially and in a general way, e. g. :

I. A child cannot stand so still as a man. Men swayed, on the
average, 3.5 cm. in the anterio-posterior direction and 2 cm. later-
ally. Boys of six years swayed 5.1 cm. by 4.3 cm.

II. A child cannot hold his hand so still as a man. Men moved
their hands on the average .242 cm. by .752 cm. ; boys of six moved
theirs 1.191 cm. by 4.258 cm.

III. A child cannot hold his attention upon any subject so
steadily as a man. Some of these experiments, which required sus-
tained attention for one minute, could not be carried out in the case
of the children.

IV. Control of the arm is far greater in men than in children.
With the former the * Trenograph ' registered an average movement
of .0975 cm.; with the latter of .396 cm.

V. The child cannot tap so rapidly as the adult. The rate for
the child of 16 years is five times as great as for one of six years.

VI. The order of control is from fundamental to accessory mus-
cles (/. <?., larger muscles come under control earlier than smaller).
Fine, complicated movements are difficult for the child.

VII. The prolonged effort to keep quiet produces in children
strong symptoms of nervous irritation.

194 NEUROLOGY.

VIII. "Generally the girl, at the same age, is steadier than the
boy."

IX. "Children in normal healthy growth show a lack of coor-
dination and control paralleled only by ataxic, choreic and paralytic
patients." F. TRACY.

TORONTO UNIVERSITY.

NEUROLOGY.

On the Inadequacy of the Cellular Theory of Development and on the Early
Development of Nerves, particularly the Third Nerve, and of the
Sympathetic in Elasmobranchii. ADAM SEDGWICK. The Quarterly
Journal of Microscopical Science, N. S., No. 145, November,
1894.

During the past decade the protest has been coming from many
quarters and with increasing strength against certain crude notions
which, as accessories, have attached themselves to the cell doctrine.
Our author points out the condition of affairs, and summarises
the usual training in these dogmas with telling effect. He then pro-
ceeds to illustrate the darkness of this biological age by several ex-
amples. During his various studies, especially those on Peripatus,
he has been struck by the fact that in many cases tissues refused to
break up into cells or cell layers. "It would appear," he says,
" that in Peripatus the cells of the adults in so far as they are dis-
tinct and sharply marked off structures, are not, as appears to be
generally the case, present in the earliest embryonic stages, but are
gradually evolved as development proceeds. In other words, the
cell theory, if it implies that the adult cells are derived from em-
bryonic cells which have been directly produced by the division of
the ovicell, does not apply to the embryos of Peripatus." For further
illustration Sedgwick then takes up the so-called mesenchyme tissue
of Elasmobranch embryos; the origin of nerve trunks and the
fate of the neural crest.

The ideas fundamental to the view urged by our author are set
forth in what is stated concerning nerve cells. According to this
hypothesis nerve fibres are present before the nuclei or cell bodies
appear. The principal function of the neural crest, so far as it takes
part in forming the nervous system, is to produce nuclei which ulti-
mately attach themselves at various points to this reticulum from
which the fibres are formed by condensation. The details need not
be given, for it is at once evident how very widely such a view dif-
fers from the one current, and according to which the nervous sys-
tem takes origin from a series of spherical cells which later produce

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 19$

the fibres as outgrowths. This new explanation certainly deals with
but a fraction of the facts. Most anatomists are ready to admit that
in the matter of cell formation as in other life processes there are
wide variations, all the way from distinctly marked cell elements as
disconnected as blood corpuscles through forms incompletely sepa-
rated, to those in which nuclei appear scattered in a poorly divided
enclosing mass. That any one of these arrangements should be
chosen as representing the 'whole truth' and the others 'reduced'
to it is more likely to hamper than to enlarge knowledge. It is psy-
chologically interesting that we glory in the thought of transfor-
mation and genetic evolution, yet dominated by the notion of types
and the mistaken idea that profound conceptions must be capable of
simple expression, in the same breath utter a partial hypothesis
which is warranted complete, and thereupon proceed to 'whip in'
the non-conforming facts. There is but one excuse for this, namely,
that each hypothesis must be pushed in every direction in order to
demonstrate its truth or falsity, but we rely on our colleagues to ex-
ercise good judgment in the process and not mislead us, for grave
responsibilities attach even to the exercise of the scientific imagin-
ation.

A description of the cerebral convolutions of the Chimpanzee known as
" Sally" j with notes on the convolutions of other Chimpanzees and of
two Orangs. W. BENHAM. The Quarterly Journal of Micro-
scopical Science, N. S., No. 145, November, 1894. Plates 7—11.

Chimpanzee brains differ among themselves and the zoologists
hint at two or even three species of this animal. The individual
'Sally' who lived eight years at the Zoological Gardens in London
has been referred by Beddard to the species Troglodytes calvus. The
brain from this case is in some respects unsimian in its conformation.

In the majority of cases the chimpanzee brain possesses an occipital
operculum, a distinctly simian feature. This was quite absent in the
case of Sally. Further the demarkation of the insula and the
branches at the anterior end of the Sylvian fissure were more than
usually evident. Thus this specimen serves to diminish in various
important characters the differences in form between the brain of
man and of the chimpanzee as generally described. The accom-
panying plates are excellent.

The two other chimpanzee brains most similar to that of 'Sally'
have been described by Broca and by Miiller respectively. Both the
latter brains were from young males, the species not having been
exactly recorded. Hence there is no positive evidence that this type

196 NEUROLOGY.

of brain is characteristic of the species calvus, but at the same time
it is not to be correlated with either age or sex.

Amusie (Musikalische Aphasie.) J. G. EDGREN. Deutsche Zeitschrift
ftir Nervenheilkunde, B. VI. H. 1-2. December, 1894.

The perception and expression of musical sounds and symbols
can be shown to be quite parallel to that for the sounds and symbols
of ordinary speech. Beyond the musical faculty comes gesture lan-
guage, which is a form of expression even more general than music.
It has occurred to Ballet to picture the three brain areas concerned,
as three concentric circles, of which that representing verbal speech
should be the smallest and that for the emotional gesture language,
the largest; the musical faculty falling between the two. Against
such a scheme there are many important objections; but it serves to
emphasize the fact that in any one instance the anatomical bases for
the reactions are not identical with those in the others, although
several structures may be used in common. In the study of aphasia,
the disturbance in the musical faculty has been neither generally
tested nor recorded in detail. E. is able to find in the literature,
which he summarizes with great skill, a number of cases of aphasia
without amusia; another group in which they are combined, and a
third group, in which the amusia in one form or another, is alone
present.

The impulse to his study of this subject was a case of amusia in
which both the clinical history and record of the autopsy were at
hand, and in which the brain lesion in the left hemsiphere was a
destruction of the anterior two thirds of the first temporal, and the
anterior half of the second temporal gyrus, together with destruc-
tion in the right hemisphere of the middle and posterior portions
of the first temporal gyrus, and the ventral edge of the inferior
parietal lobule along the Sylvian fissure. Both lesions are shown in
figures.

In general the author concludes that the musical faculty like that
of speech can be disturbed by lesions of the brain. The different
forms of amusia are comparable with the different forms of aphasia.
These are clinically distinct, and while the analogous forms of
aphasia and amusia may occur together, they are not necessarily
associated. There appears also to be a distinct anatomical basis for
the forms of amusia as contrasted with those for aphasia and for
that form of amusia designated as note-deafness (his own case), there
is some reason to locate the cortical centre in the first and second
temporal gyri of the left hemisphere, somewhat in front of the
region, injury to which causes word deafness.

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 1 97

Recherches microscopiche e sperimentali su git effetti delta Tiroidectomia.
F. CAPOBIANCO. Internationale Monatschrift fiir Anatomic und
Physiologic, Band XI-H., II and XII, 1894.

There is often a tendency to overlook the importance of nutritive
conditions in modifying the reactions of the nervous system. It has
been shown, however, that there exists a close connection between
the thyroid body and the central nervous system. On the patho-
logical side the various forms of goitre, dependent on changes in the
gland, and associated with disturbance of the nervous functions, give
still further support to this idea, and Foster remarks in his text-book
of physiology that the senescence of the nervous system is probably
involved in the early atrophy of the thymus.

The work of Capobianco touches two points; the general effect
of the removal of this gland from dogs and rabbits, and the changes
which at the same time occur in the nervous system. As a result of
the total extirpation of the thyroid gland, dogs and rabbits always
die within four weeks, the average life of the rabbits being longer
than that of the dogs.

Histological examination of the nervous system, central and
peripheral, showed distinct pathological changes in cell-bodies and
in the fibres together with alterations in the blood-vessels. In
dogs, the entire central system is involved, while in the rabbits it is
the bulb which is most affected.

The nature of the histological changes is that of an atrophy of
both cell-bodies and fibres, while in some cases the cell-bodies show
a granular disintegration and extreme vacuolization. The plates
illustrating these changes are very striking and one is led to speculate
on how far slight variations in the activity of this gland may initiate
in the central system of a normal person, such changes as are here
to be seen in an exaggerated form. H. H. D.

UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO.

HEARING.

Beitrdge zur Lehre von der Klangwahrnehmung. L. HERMANN. Pflii-

ger's Arch., LVI, 10, n, 12. Pp. 467-499.
Phonophotographische Mittheilungen. V. Die Curven der Consonanten.

L. HERMANN and FR. MATTHIAS. Phonophotographische Un-

tersuchungen. VI. Nachtrag zur Untersuchung der Vocalcurven.

L. HERMANN, FR. MATTHIAS and A. EHRHARDT. Pfliiger's

Archiv., LVIII, 5 and 6. Pp. 255-279.
A Study of the Sense of Equilibrium in Fishes. S. LEE. Part II.

Journ. of Physiol., Vol. XVII, Nos. 3 and 4.

198 HEARING.

On the ground of his well-known experiments with the wave-
siren, A. Konig questioned Helmholtz's conclusion that clangs
which differ only in the phases of their components are identical
for our hearing. Hermann points out that experiments on the
wave-siren are themselves questionable, from the fact that on this
instrument difference of phase may result in similar sounds from
clangs which are fundamentally different in the order of their over-
tones. Reversing the curve of a clang as given in a phonograph,
either along the axis of abscissas or of ordinate, changes the phases
of the components but not the sound.

To the resultant sounds which are already known to arise from
a combination of tones, Hermann would add what he calls a Mittel-
ton. This tone arises from the actual resultant vibrations impressed
on the conducting medium by the components of a clang. In the
case of two component tones of the rates of vibration m : n, the
number of vibrations of this ' median tone ' within a beat-period

, j , m -r- n

would be — 7 — : r-.

2 (m — n)

From experiments on toothed disks, in which the phase of a tone-
was rapidly renewed, Hermann concludes that change of phase
itself produces tones which may be and probably are the Tartarian
tones. The Tartarian tone, therefore, is the intermittent tone
from the medial tone. The article concludes with certain hypotheti-
cal additions to Helmholtz's resonance theory of tone sensations
required to explain intermittent and beat tones. As regards sim-
plicity, however, it is better to assume the direct excitability of the
auditory nerve than to add a new series of epicyles to the resonance
theory.

In getting consonant curves, Hermann found it necessary to mul-
tiply the motion of the phonograph, firstly, by an additional lever,
secondly, by a ray of light reflected from the second lever. The
motions of this ray of light were photographed. The entire 'plant*
of apparatus is extremely complicated and delicate. The present
communication gives the curves for Z.

Applying the above apparatus to vowel sounds, Hermann ob-
tained curves five (5) centimeters high. The curves confirmed his
views published in former numbers of the Archiv, in regard to the
fixed form of the characteristic vowel tone,

Dr. Lee's article is in continuation of his study on equilibrium
published in Vol. XV. of the Journal of Physiology.

The chief find in the present article is that by stimulating the
auditory nerve of the common dog-fish (galmus canis),, the resulting

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 199

movements of the eyes and fins is the algebraic sum of the move-
ments which arise from eliminating the ampullae branches separately.
STANFORD UNIVERSITY. F. ANGELL.

ATTENTION AND MEMORY.

Recherches sur la me'moire affective. TH. RIBOT. Revue Philoso-

phique, XXXVIII, 376-401.

Affective Attention. E. B. TITCHENER. Philos. Rev., Ill, 429-33.
Affective Memory. E. B. TITCHENER. Philos. Rev., IV, 65-76.

M. Ribot attempts to show that pleasures, pains and emotions,
as well as olfactory, gustatory and organic sensations generally, are
not merely rememberable in an intellectual way as facts that have
been experienced, but that they may themselves, in certain cases, be
imaginatively reproduced. His conclusion is based on answers to
questions received from some sixty persons, a goodly number of
whom profess ability to revive, with varying precision and vividness,
states of feeling in the manner indicated. Mr. Titchener disputes
the interpretation. He does not deny that the recollection of exhil-
arating sport may be pleasant or that of a whipping painful, that a
tooth may be made to ache again by suggestion of the former tor-
ment, or that the memory of an insult may excite anger. What he
denies in all such cases — and it is on such cases that M. Ribot sup-
ports his contention — is that the affection thus aroused is itself a
revival of the original affection, and not rather a real affection giv-
ing tone to or a real emotion prompted by an ideal object. Seizing
on the implied admission that ' revived ' affection always attaches
to an ideational content, he urges that in that case there is no proof
of revival of affection at all; it is a question, not of reproduction
versus production, but of production by this stimulus rather than by
that. It might be replied that the same is true of every sensational
experience that imagination represents. The * reproduction ' is in
fact a production, a new reality brought about by the action of a
stimulus on a disposition to function, attached by association to ele-
ments other than those which attention emphasizes after the recall,
and only identical with the original experience as being the same in
kind. But the objection lies deeper. The real question, as Mr.
Titchener conceives it, is whether pain, pleasure and emotion are
possible objects of attention at all. It is because he believes that they
are not — a point argued in the earlier article — that he holds that
they cannot be singled out and identified in imagination. What can
be attended to are the sense-contents. These, however, are condi-

200 REACTION-TIME.

tions, not constituents, of the affectional element, and the denial
of our ability to imagine the latter as distinct from really experi-
encing it as present felt qualification of the represented content
appears to the author highly important as a matter of psychological
principle.

Certainly, as a matter of pure introspection, it would seem im-
possible for the attention to fasten on any content corresponding to
the abstractions 'pleasure-pain' or 'psychic attitude.' If, as Mr.
Titchener maintains, a feeling is * properly analyzed into sense-sub-
strate and affection,' nothing can be discovered among the objects
of direct consciousness corresponding to the latter. On the other
hand we can attend, as Mr. Titchener allows, to our concrete feel-
ings. A toothache, a state of grief or terror, can be as distinctly
felt as a patch of red color or a movement in the joints. And if
felt, then represented as felt, with something, no doubt, of the
repercussion of the original excitement. Without this the object
represented is not really the same, and the experience is remem-
bered much as a color is remembered which is not visualized ; we
know, that is, its name, perhaps some of its concomitants. Apart
from these experiences, there is nothing in pleasure, pain and emo-
tion for psychology to deal with : they are mere names which
express, not psychological experience, but the practical value of the
experiences which they qualify.

SMITH COLLEGE. H. N. GARDINER.

REACTION-TIME.

Zur Beurtheilung der zusammengesetzten Reaclionen. W. WUNDT.

Philos. Stud., X, 485-498. 1894.
Beobachtungen bei zusammengesetzten Reactionen. Zwei briefliche Mittheil-

ungen an den Herausgeber. E. KRAEPELIN und JULIUS MERKEL.

Philos. Stud., X, 499-506. 1894.
Simple Reactions. E. B. TITCHENER. Mind, N. S., 13, 74-81. Jan.,

Two Points in Reaction-time Experimentation. R. WATANABE. Am.
Journ. of Psychol., VI, 408-512. June, 1894.

The articles in the Philosophische Studien call attention to an as-
pect of experimental psychology sometimes overlooked — namely,
the importance of the knowledge that may be derived from intro-
spection in the course of psychological experiments. Thus Prof.
Wundt states explicitly that his theory of the development of the
will, and of its relation to * apperception,' had its origin in observa-
tions made during the course of experiments on reaction-time. He

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 2OI

^concludes his discussion by saying that the times measured have
only an incidental interest — the real value of such experiments lies
in the fact that they subject mental processes to fixed conditions,
.and thus make possible an exact analysis by introspection. While
much can be said for this point of view, the present articles do not
give conclusive testimony in its favor, as they are controversial, the
introspective evidence of some observers contradicting that of
others.

Wundt argues for the interpretation of sensory and motor reac-
tions, 'perception-times,' 'discrimination-times,' 'choice-times,' and
' association-times ' already given in detail in the fourth edition of
the Physiologische Psychologic. Wundt is regarded as the great repre-
sentative of the experimental and scientific method in psychology —
and deservedly so — but he does not readily adapt himself to the
•scientific attitude that weighs evidence and waits for evidence. He
considers it possible and desirable to pass final judgment on every
•question great and small. This he does with much learning and
ability, but often without proper perspective. He sees the world as
a panorama with himself in the centre. He forgets that a pano-
rama, constructed from fragmentary data, holds only for the indi-
vidual who constructs it — also that there is no centre of infinite
space.

The experiments on sensory and motor reactions do not seem to
the present writer nearly so important as they do to Wundt, nor can
he admit Wundt's interpretation of the facts. When Wundt informs
us that "zu Versuchen iiber den zeitlichen Verlauf psychischer Vor-
gange ist nun von vornherein nur ein Beobachter fahig, der im
stande ist, willkurlich zwischen diesen beiden Reactionsformen zu
wechseln," he is proposing an esoteric psychology, not a scientific
method. Wundt insists that the ' subject ' in psychological meas-
urements must always be a skilled psychologist. Yet he writes on
Thierseele ! The investigator should, indeed, be a skilled psycholo-
gist, able to interpret the facts, but a psychologist with a theory to
prove is not a good observer.

Every one who wishes to make psycho-physical time-measure-
ments should read the article by Wundt and the letters in the same
number of the Studien by Prof. Kraepelin and Dr. Merkel — not in
order to accept as a matter of course the observations given — but in
order to realize the need of observing and recording the changes in
consciousness accompanying such experiments.

Prof. Titchener's discussion of sensory and motor reactions in
Mind is more careful and judicial than is Wundt's. He sums up the

202 JUDGMENT AND BELIEF.

evidence of ten researches and finds six favorable to the distinction!
and four more or less negative. Prof. Baldwin, however, seems ta
be counted on the wrong side, as he finds (in a publication,
later than the one quoted) the nature of the difference to
vary with the observer; and Prof. Titchener himself has found
the distinction in less than half the cases he has tested. We
may conclude that the normal reaction-time of an observer can often
be lengthened by directing him to fix his attention on the sense-
impression, but it does not seem so evident that it can be shortened
by directing him to fix his attention on the movement. The reac-
tion-time is naturally lengthened and made more irregular when its
automatic nature is disturbed ; and from the experiments made in
the Leipzig laboratory, it would seem that attending exclusively to
the sense-impression is more disturbing than attending exclusively
to the movement. In daily life, however, the contrary holds ;
actions are executed more automatically when the attention is di-
rected to the sense-impression — thus in throwing, catching or strik-
ing a ball, the more completely one can attend to the ball and forget
the movement, the more efficient and quick is the movement. In-
deed, in reaction-time experiments, when the stimulus is so strong
as to compel the attention (as with painful electric shocks), the
reaction-time is very short, which would seem conclusive against the
extreme views of Lange and Wundt. That the difference between
the times of sensory and motor reactions gives the time required to
perceive the stimulus (Wundt and also Titchener in his earlier paper,
jPhilos. Stud., VIII.), does not seem admissible to the present writer.
In the short paper by Prof. Titchener and Mr. Watanabe, atten-
tion is again called to the desirability of treating reaction-time
experiments from the point of view of psychology. The observer's
impression regarding the nature of the reaction is recorded. The
writers conclude that in the case of sensory reactions introspection
affords an adequate control, but is less trustworthy in the case of
muscular reactions. J. McK. C.

JUDGMENT AND BELIEF.
Glaube und Urtheil. W. JERUSALEM. Vierteljahsschirft fur wissen-

schaftliche Philosophic. Vol. XVII, pp. 162-195.
Grundzuge der Logik. T. LIPPS. Hamburg u. Leipzig: Voss.
Principii di Logica Reale. N. R. D' ALFONSO. Rome: 1894.
Appearance and Reality (passim). F. H. BRADLEY.
The Test of Belief. J. P. GORDY. Philosophical Review, May,

1894, 257.

Few states of consciousness, or psychoses, whether viewed
from the psychological or from the epistemological standpoint, are

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 203

more interesting or more important than those indicated by the
words 'judgment' and 'belief.' If it be true that the whole essence
of the thinking process is involved in the formation and expression
of judgments; that judgment is not so much a mere occurrence in
the mind as an activity of the mind; that the test of a genuine act
of judgment is the presence in it of belief; and that in all judgment
there is thus a * trans-psychosial ' reference, a reference, that is, to
reality beyond the factual sphere of the psychosis as such: — if all
this and much more that we "are told of judgment and belief, be
true, then it would scarcely be too much to say that a good means
of testing the psychological and even the epistemological position of
any writer would be to ask "What is his doctrine of ' belief and of
'judgment'?" We summarize a few recent utterances bearing upon
these subjects: —

Herr Jerusalem calls attention to the fact that in recent times
the view has often found expression that the essential characteristic
of the act of judgment is the consciousness of its objective validity,
called by the English belief and by some German psychologist Aner-
kennung. This view has been urged especially by J. S. Mill (Notes,
on Jas. Mill's Analysis, I, p. 342, and Exam, of Ham. Philos., p. 405)
and by Brentano (Psychol. vom empir. Standpunkte, I, pp. 269 f.)..
Attention is also called to the important discussions of belief by
James (II, 282 ff) and Baldwin (II, ch. 7 and Mind, N. S., I, 403);
the last named has handled in a very noteworthy manner the ques-
tion of the relation of belief, feeling and judgment. The trans-
psychosial reference inherent in every judgment and characterizing
it as something more than a mere psychosis, a mere affection of
consciousness, was recognized even by the ancients, e. g., by Plato
(Theat., 184-187) and the Stoics (Cicero, De Fato, 19, 43).
Descartes and Spinoza emphasized the presence of a conative ele-
ment in judgment and in belief; with them judgment is predom-
inantly an assent of the will, an affirmation. The history of the
problem of judgment shows that it has been handled either in a one-
sidedly psychological or in a one-sidedly grammatico-logical manner..
Baldwin has rightly insisted that a complete theory of judgment
can only be attained when all the constituent factors, or elements,
entering into the act are given full recognition.

Herr Jerusalem thinks that the whole subject of judgment needs
to be investigated anew, and especially does the relation of belief
to judgment need to be made clear.

Judgment is, he finds, an activity by which the complex of sen-
sation, or manifold of sense, is discriminated and combined, moulded

2O4 JUDGMENT AND BELIEF.

and articulated, and objectified, i. e., regarded as an independent
unitary being with powers. Consciousness in judging conceives the
given manifold or complex as the activity of a thing. Judgment is
essentially ' ein Gliedern und Gestalten.' An injection of an element
of willing into the presentative complex is the most important factor
in an act of judgment. In fact, in judgment the given content of
sense — presentative content — is formed or moulded by a process
analogous to the activities of our own will, and objectified or con-
ceived as an activity or quality of a thing. In this objectification
we find the germs out of which belief and the conception of truth
later develop. This objectification being present implicitly in
sense-perception, we may say that even in perceiving we judge.

What now is the relation of judgment to truth ? Truth, as al-
ready said, is implicit in the objective reference characteristic of all
judgment. Mill is right in saying that to judge and to regard the
judgment as true are identical. This, at any rate, is true of original
and naive judgments. The full consciousness of truth is, however, only
reached when by experience we are taught the possibility of error.
The truth of a judgment is the relation between the judgment as a
psychological fact and the judged event. We denote this relation
by word the * accordance' (Entsprecheii). The idea of truth first arises by
reflecting on this relation. Such reflection, however, only becomes
possible when we discover that wrong interpretations, mistakes,
occur. In defending the meaning contained in a judgment against
possible assaults the consciousness of truth emerges. The con-
ception, therefore, of truth presupposes experience of error. Truth
and error both belong properly to the sphere of judgment. Brad-
ley's distinction between an ' idea as a fact ' and an ' idea as a
meaning,' more properly holds of judgments than of concepts. We
can, that is, distinguish between a judgment as state of conscious-
ness and a judgment as having a 'meaning '; and truth is the rela-
tion of these two sides of the judgment to each other. Indeed
only in a system recognizing a world of extra-mental realities, in-
dependent of judgments and to which they may conform or not, is
truth possible; that is, truth presupposes psychoses and a trans-
psychosial world of realities; deny either and the merely factual,
not truth, is all that is left. The criteria of truth are found in the
fulfilment of predictions and the agreement with other thinkers.

What now is the nature of belief, and what is its relation to
judgment ? An element of belief is implicit in the act of judgment;
but this embryonic belief is to be carefully distinguished from belief
in the higher sense. Belief as a clearly experienced state of con-

PS YCHOLOGICAL LITER A TURE. 2O$

sciousness is the holding as true of a judgment and therefore it pre-
supposes judgment and the concept of truth. Yet the truth of a
judgment is in no way a condition of belief; untrue judgments are
believed as well as true ones. The English psychologists are right
in finding in feeling the source and essence, psychologically, of
belief. The opposite of belief is not disbelief but doubt, which is
generally and rightly regarded as feeling; belief, therefore, is pre-
dominantly feeling. 'Predominantly,' for all psychic facts — all
really experienced psychoses — consist, without exception, of more
than a single factor, comprise always intellectual, conative, and
affective elements. They are named and classified according to the
predominant factor, and in the case of belief, this is feeling. Belief,
as here used, is not to be contrasted with knowledge; it is used in
the general sense of 'holding as true.' What calls forth this feeling
which attaches itself to a judgment and turns it into one held as
true ? The answer is, that belief is the feeling of harmony, or agree-
ment with the previous content of my consciousness; the feeling of
the accordance of a judgment with my conceptions of the world.
Just as doubt arises from the conflict of a judgment with my pre-
vious thoughts, so the feeling of belief springs from their harmony.

Herr Jerusalem's paper is a very meritorious one and will repay
study.

Prof. Lipps also emphasizes the objective, or 'trans-psychosial,'
reference in all judgment. Judgment is the consciousness of the
objective necessity of a relation, or union, of the objects of con-
sciousness. The logical doctrine that judgment states only what is
true or false, is sound. Truth is synonymous with real knowledge.
The distinction is made — fundamental for logic — between real and
formal judgments. In a formal judgment the objective necessity is
an unconditional necessity prevailing among notions; in a material
judgment the objective necessity is that of relating, to an object of
consciousness thought as objectively real and so far as it is thus
thought, another also thought as objectively real. The objectively
valid judgment is the special act of real knowledge. A judgment is
objectively valid when the consciousness of the objective necessity
perdures, without contradiction, against all possible experience and
objectively necessary union of the objects of experience. Objective-
ly valid judgments, hence knowledge, arise in the struggle and inter-
action of the proximate subjectively valid judgments. Every judg-
ment is subjectively valid in so far as it is made.

The universal validity, or validity for all, follows from the ob-
jective validity, on the assumption of similarity in the thinking

206 JUDGMENT AND BELIEF.

processes of all thinking beings. That is, the claim to universal
validity of a judgment lies in the conviction, that, on account of the
similarity of all minds, all must reach like judgments, in so far as
they have the same experiences and relate them by thought. Prof.
Lipps' discussion is, from the logical standpoint, singularly fresh
•and helpful.

Signor D' Alfonso in his little treatise on concrete logic has some
remarks of interest on judgment (considerazioni sul giudtzio) . All think-
ing and reasoning are essentially judging; in judgment is involved
the whole of the thinking process. Every judgment implies in one
and the same act a synthesis and an analysis; these are the two
sides of every judgment. Every so-called negative judgment can
be transformed into a positive one. When we assert that a given
body is not solid we implicit}7 assert that it is liquid or gaseous.
Negation is, it would seem therefore, a judgment on a judgment
and thus presupposes an affirmative judgment. Psychologically
affirmation is prior to negation — in fact all judgments are, psycholog-
ically, affirmative. That is, as concrete mental processes there is no
distinction between positive and negative judgments; the attitude of
mind in up and down negation being the same as in affirmation. It
is, therefore, the non-licet attitude of mind, the refusal to (logically)
affirm or deny, which is psychologically the opposite of judgment.

Mr. Bradley is more interested in the epistemological and meta-
physical aspects of judgment and belief than in the purely psycho-
logical. But his book is full of keen psychological analyses and
deserves, as was made evident by Prof. Baldwin in a late number
of this REVIEW, the attention of students of psychology. Those
acquainted with Mr. Bradley's Principles of Logic, will not be sur-
prised to find that in the more recent work he has a good deal to
say of judgment. We extract a few pregnant statements : In
judgment, according to Mr. Bradley, we find thought in its com-
pleted form. Judgment is the differentiation of a complex whole,
and hence always is analysis and synthesis in one. It separates an
element from, and restores it to, the concrete basis. And here
obviously the synthesis effected is a re-union of the distinguished,
and implies the separation, which, though it is over-ridden, is never
unmade. The predicate is a content which has been made loose
from its own immediate existence and is used in divorce from that
unity.

In every judgment there is in the subject an aspect of existence
which is absent from the bare predicate. No one ever means to
assert about anything but reality, or to do anything but qualify a

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 2 07

"that' by a 'what.' Judgment adds an adjective to reality. In
every judgment the genuine subject is reality, which goes beyond
the predicate and of which the predicate is an adjective. The pre-
dicate, on the other hand, is a mere 'what,' a mere feature of con-
tent, which is used to qualify the 'that' of the subject. In every
judgment, then, we find an aspect of existence, absent from the
predicate but present in the subject, and in the synthesis of these
aspects we have got the essence of judgment.

Prof. Gordy's paper is a fitting companion-piece to Herr Jerus-
alem's. It is so full of matter that it is difficult to condense it and
yet do it justice.

The distinction between the pure intellect seeing and the practical
intellect trusting, or between knowledge and belief, Prof. Gordy
considers of fundamental importance. Belief of any kind consists,
"he declares, of two factors: what, with Baldwin, we may call the
reality-feeling, plus the 'consciousness of the personal indorsement
of reality.' One of these elements or constituents of belief — the
reality-feeliug — we may have without the other — the personal indorse-
ment of the reality; the saying to one's self that the reality- feeling is
true. "Sitting in a car at a depot, waiting for my train to start, I
seem to see the motion of my train when another train moves slowly
by. In other words, the reality feeling attaches itself to the image
or idea of my train in motion. But when I look at the wheels of the
moving train this reality feeling ceases to exist so long as I continue
to look at them. I see or believe that the apparent motion of my
train is due to the real motion of the other. The same kind of
reality-feeling attaches itself to a new set of experiences. But as soon
as I stop looking at the wheels, the old reality-feeling returns — my
train seems to move in spite of the fact that I know it does not. In
other words, the reality-feeling, which alone distinguishes the ideas
or images of memory from mere imagination, attaches itself to ex-
periences which we know from other evidence do not represent real-
ity." For further discussion of this point we are referred to ' Baldwin's
able and very lucid treatment of the subject,' Feeling and Will, ch. 7.

By a critical examination, containing much that is suggestive, of
Prof. Bain's three postulates or assumptions underlying all material
or inductive inferences, and of J. S. Mill's theory of induction, Prof.
Gordy reaches the conclusion that in order to carry on the reason-
ings of ordinary life as well as those of science, we must assume (i)
the trustworthiness of memory within certain limits, (2) the uniform-
ity of nature, and (3) that an hypothesis that explains a particular
group of facts, and at the same time harmonizes with the rest of our

208 JUDGMENT AND BELIEF.

beliefs, is true. We can give no reasons for such beliefs which
would at all satisfy a cold, critical intellect, an intellect indifferent
to consequences, an intellect that believes only in so far as it sees
grounds for certainty or for probability. Now from the point of
view of the pure intellect, the intellect seeing, not trusting, these
beliefs have neither certainty nor probability; from the point of view
of the practical intellect, the intellect yielding to the native instincts
and unreasoned tendencies of the mind, they are not only probable
but certain. From the point of view of knowledge, in a word, our
beliefs are so many pure assumptions.

Now we need a test of belief. By 'test of belief,' Prof. Gordy
does not mean a test by means of which we can determine the truth
of our beliefs, that would be a test of truth. He means a formula-
tion of the marks or characteristics of the beliefs that we are obliged
to assume without proof. Now we can say that, since we have
accepted the trustworthiness of memory and the uniformity of nature
and the proposition, 'an hypothesis that explains facts, and at the
same time fits in with everything else that we believe is true,' we
will accept any other proposition without further proof that has the
same characteristics. What, then, are the characteristics of these
beliefs ? The assumption of the trustworthiness of memory has
two: (i) it is a belief that we have a natural tendency to make, — /. e.,
when we begin to reflect we find ourselves making it; — and (2) ex-
perience does not deprive us of it. The second characteristic — the
confirmation of experience — must be taken in a negative sense only.
Of positive verification of the trustworthiness of memory, we have
none. The thesis which Prof. Gordy maintains, then, with reference
to the trustworthiness of memory is this: What we know on the
authority of what we call memory has no other guarantee than a
reality-feeling, a feeling which sometimes attaches itself to ex-
periences that we know do not represent realities, but which we
accept in the case of memory, simply because it is not contradicted by
other experiences.

The characteristics of our belief in the uniformity of nature are
the same; we have a natural tendency to make it, and our experience
is not inconsistent with it. What again, are the characteristics of
the third assumption : An hypothesis is true that explains the facts,
and that takes its place easily and naturally among our other beliefs.
They are the same. These, then, are the characteristics of the
three assumptions (beliefs), one of which underlies all reasoning
whatever, and all of which underlie the reasoning of inductive
science and everyday life.

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 2 09

Necessary truth, then, aside — truth, that is, whose contradictories
are 'absurd, inconceivable, impossible,' — whatever we are asked to
believe, ought to be either an ultimate belief, *. e., a belief having
the characteristics of being assumed through a natural tendency,
and of not being interfered with by experience, or an hypothesis
that explains all the pertinent facts, and takes its place easily and
naturally among our other beliefs. The broader the base of ex-
perience upon which beliefs, in the negative sense explained, rest,
the greater their credibility. If one man accepts one hypothesis
because it explains all the facts he knows, and another man a differ-
ent hypothesis because it explains, not only the facts known to the
first man, but others equally certain, the last man's hypothesis is
the more credible, although we can never say that it, in turn, may
not have to give place to another.

Such a theory, it may be urged, opens the door to unbounded
credulity. Not so, says Prof. Gordy, for the very prominence which
it gives to the fact that inductive reasoning is only a process of
finding hypotheses to explain facts, cannot but enforce the necessity
of caution on the part of one who accepts it. Again, it may be
urged, that its practical outcome is philosophical skepticism. Not
so, for he only can be charged with philosophical skepticism
who holds that reason is hopelessly at war with itself; who holds
that, no matter upon what subject or in what direction he tries his
reason, it leads him into an inextricable tangle of inconsistencies
and contradictions. With the common-sense philosophy, the theory
insists that the attempt of the empiricist to find positive verification
in experience for the first principles of science cannot succeed; with
empiricism, it insists that the attempt of the common-sense phil-
osophy to establish definite philosophical principles must end in
failure. Finally, the theory aims to give full recognition to the
important, nay, the decisive, part which the emotional and voli-
tional side of our natures play in shaping our beliefs.

YALE UNIVERSITY. G. M. DUNCAN.

PATHOLOGICAL.

Psychiatrie. TH. ZIEHEN. Berlin, Friedrich Wreden, 1894. Pp.
47°.

The author has already made several contributions to physiologi-
cal psychology and the present text-book on psychiatry is frankly
written on psychological lines, as distinguished from clinical. Ziehen
claims that the association psychology is entirely sufficient to explain
all the facts of psychiatry and over one third of the book is given up

2 I O PS YCHIA TR Y.

to general psychology, and he discusses the disturbances of sensa-
tion, of ideation and memory, of the intellectual feelings, of the
association of ideas, of behaviour, and the accompanying somatic
symptoms of the psychoses. The psychology is orthodox, albeit
somewhat dry, but is on the whole satisfactory, and furnishes a good
compendium of the perverted mental operations of mental disease.
In his classification Ziehen makes but two grand subdivisions,
psychoses without defect of intelligence and those with such defect.
Under the first coming the simple psychoses, mania, melancholia,
neurasthenia, stupor and paranoia, and the combined psychoses —
the insanities secondary to the above. Of the psychoses with defect
of intelligence there are first the states of congenital defect, idiocy,
imbecility and debility, and secondly the psychoses from acquired
defects, the six forms of dementia, paralytic, senile, secondary after
brain lesions, secondary after functional psychoses, epileptic and
alcoholic. In this simplification of classification there are several
important omissions. Delirium acutum is denied a place as a distinct
clinical entity, against the opinion of the best alienists, and is only
spoken of as occurring in acute hallucinatory paranoia and in general
paralysis. Again, periodical and circular insanity are simply assigned
places as varieties of mania and melancholia, and under the degener-
ative psychoses. But it is in the field of Paranoia that recent Ger-
man writers have especially run riot, and Ziehen adds greatly to the
already existing confusion. The moment we depart from Krafft-
Ebing's definition that paranoia is a chronic disease, showing itself
exclusively in degenerate individuals, and frequently developing
from the constitutional neuroses, and whose chief symptoms are
[systematized] delusions, — we are landed in inextricable confusion.
Ziehen's acute hallucinatory paranoia terminating in recovery with-
out mental defect in over 70 per cent, of all cases, is not * Verruck-
theit,' and bracketing them together only tends to confusion and
false ideas. Ziehen makes four forms of paranoia, the acute and
chronic hallucinatory, and the acute and chronic simple paranoia.
In his etiological summary of the psychoses the following etiological
factors are credited with producing, besides many other psychoses,
different forms of paranoia, as follows : Hereditary degeneration, three
forms; trauma capitis, two forms; chronic alcoholism, five forms;
puberty, three forms; senility, two forms; climacteric, two forms;
puerperal state, two forms; lactation, two forms, acute febrile dis-
eases, three forms [in reality confusional insanity]; epilepsy, two
forms; hysteria, four forms; exhaustion, four forms. It would be
hard to conceive of confusion worse confounded. Ziehen's simple
chronic paranoia is the only one that fulfils the condition of a

PSYCHOL OGICAL LITERA TURE. 2 1 1

•chronic primary disease with systematized delusions. When it is
considered that Jean Jacques Rousseau, Ludwig of Bavaria and
Guiteau are classical examples of paranoia in its proper and more
restricted sense one sees the folly of speaking of a man suffering
from a blow on the head, or from pneumonia or multiple neuritis,
where mental disturbance develops, as being a paranoiac.

Ziehen adopts the sound modern doctrine that in the immense
majority of cases gynaecological treatment is entirely without in-
fluence, while in other cases by setting up new irritations it is posi-
tively harmful.

Katatonia is admitted to a position as a clinical entity, but is
given as of rare occurrence.

The clinical descriptions are clear, and the ten photographs are
remarkably successful in giving the physiognomy of the different
diseases.

FOXBORO, MASS. WILLIAM NOYES.

JLes Mats intellectuels dans la mttancolie. G. DUMAS. Paris, Alcan,
1895.

This little volume is worthy of more than casual notice. M.
Dumas, a pupil of Ribot, belongs to the group of contemporary
psychologists who commenced their study with philosophy and meta-
physics, and then changing face, have gone over into medicine.
MM. Janet and Marillier did the same.

This study on melancholy is Dumas' thesis in medicine. One can
not praise too highly the courage of those who, while already having
degrees and titles as doctors of literature and professors in schools
and colleges, yet devote themselves to undergraduate work in medi-
cine. Their intellectual experience is peculiar. Instead of com-
mencing the study of psychology with observation and fact, they
have approached it from the side of the more abstract and metaphys-
ical problems. They seem to put the chariot before the horse; and
it becomes an interesting question what attitude this leads them to
bring to the empirical study of medicine. Do they still remain
metaphysicians?

Dumas' study relates to four women of the asylums of St. Anne
•and Salpe'triere in Paris, all afflicted with melancholy. He studies
their mental state with their physical symptoms. He distinguishes
four forms of the trouble: Melancholy with stupor, 'anxious' mel-
ancholy, 'depressive,' and 'conscious' melancholy. The author
occupies himself mainly with the last two kinds.

His main method of study was by conversation with the patients,
seeking to gain their confidence, questioning them of their griefs,

212 PA THOL OGICAL.

endeavoring to reason with them and to reassure them. Evidently
this is a more fruitful method than direct experiment since the field
of mental disturbance is so wide. Yet the author felt the need of
more than this bird's-eye view of his patients ' mental state and sought
to study more exactly the rapidity of perception and memory, the^
naming of objects, and the localization of sounds, &c. His arrange-
ments for this were a little inexact; for without careful arrangements
for measuring intervals of fractions of a second no definite results can
be obtained. The same may be said of the methods of studying physi-
cal symptoms: the author is satisfied with stating what he saw : such
as attitudes, changes of cordiac pressure (from 800 gr. to 500 gr., on
a Verdin sphygmometer, &c. He himself says that he might have-
given his results more exactness by plotting curves and giving trac-
ings. Yet he concludes: "I am convinced, after many efforts,
that the methods of psychophysics are not applicable to phenomena
so complex as those I wish to study" (p. 142). But would it not
have been better to publish his figures and tracings and then to show
by a critical discussion of them why these exact methods are not
applicable to these patients ?

In the opinion of the author the ground of melancholy is not
emotion, a psychological entity, but an organic state, a depression
of the organism, a lack of nutrition. It is a predominant activity of
the organs which produce the particular sensations contributing to
the mental state of sadness, anxiety, depression. In this view he
discusses the theories of James and Lange with just criticism. He
explains from this point of view the infectious character of mel-
ancholy, citing the general vital depression which follows an attack
of influenza. "It may be objected," says he, "that organic depres-
sion is produced some times as a consequence of mental trouble: the
fact can not be denied, but it is far less frequent than we think."
And he cites instances of the contrary (p. 100).

We need not say that the author is right here, only we should
advise him, if he would go deeper, to make his distinctions,
more exact, /*. e., to show how physiological depression lies at the
basis of melancholy. It seems probably true; but depression is a
very vague word and the author finds depression present in a variety
of diseases whose emotional tone is very different from one another,
*. e., hysteria, dyspepsia, heart troubles, &c. Has not the particular
organ affected in each case, some special importance ? Would it not
be interesting to enquire into the particular organic derangement
which is found in each of these troubles ?

Although melancholy is, in the opinion of the author, con-
sciousness of a state of the body, yet in certain instances it may

PS YCHOL 0 GICA L LITER A TURE. 2 1 3

.arise from intellectual conditions ; it may take its origin in an event
which distresses, depresses, and finally enfeebles the patient. So also
.melancholy which arises from an organic cause is always aggravated
by the distress which results from it, so that the psychological phe-
nomenon, be it cause or effect, always plays an important part in the
development of the disease. There is a series of complex actions
and reactions between the physical and the mental.

The second question which the author studies is the nature of the
intellectual changes which take place in melancholy. The principle
features of this mental state, according to his short and summary
descriptions, are i. The slowing of the mental flow and great mental
impoverishment ; 2. Aboulia, or the incapacity to carry out an act
conceived. Of this the author cites two examples. One of his pa-
tients made careful preparations for suicide, but lacked courage at
the critical moment ; another wished to write a letter but desisted
from scruples of doubt. He explains it as a defect of idio-motor
synthesis ; 3 The development of automatic acts sometimes very
grave. One patient suddenly attempted suicide and had great
trouble in recognizing herself as the perpetrator. This proves the
act automatic. Indeed she thought the command came from a
foreign will. In this connection the author studies the melancholy of
Hamlet in whom he finds the signs which he thinks characteristic of
melancholy; 4. The last mental sign of melancholy and the most im-
portant is the lack of logic : a patient weeps from organic causes
merely and without knowing why, or when the necessity arises of
thinking of some old distress long since forgotten in the past. She
nurses the thought of these miseries and comes to believe that they
cause the present grief.

In conclusion we may hope that the author will continue and
deepen his study of these questions and give us more extended obser-
vations in detail. As it is his little book is clear and attractive.

Cliniques des maladies du systdme nerveux. J. M. CHARCOT. Tome II.
Paris, Alcan, 1893. Pp. 482.

For some time M. Charcot, like the true teacher that he was, as-'
sociated his students with all his labors, and even allowed them to
take his place in some of his clinical lectures, to give them oppor-
tunities to explain, to all those who frequented the Salpe"triere, the
questions studied by him. It is in this way that after preparing a
study on great calculators, in co-operation with M. Charcot, I was
requested by him to deliver a lecture at the Salpe"triere on memory
for numbers. The present volume, prepared some months after the

214 NEW BOOKS.

death of the eminent professor, has been written with the co-oper-
ation of a great number of his pupils; only five or six of M. Charcot's
own lectures are included in the volume. They bear on subjects
that do not all equally concern psychology; but psychologists may
read with profit the lecture on hysterical hemianaesthesia and toxic
anaesthesia (p. 460), and with still more profit the one on retro-
anterograde amnesia. Let us recall in a few works what this anes-
thesia consists in. The question is of a patient who after a nervous
shock and crisis had retrograde amnesia, and also because incapable
of registering actual facts in memory. M. Charcot shows
clearly that this amnesia is not real but apparent. The patient
remembers very well the facts which she seems to forget, because
she talks in her sleep of facts of which she has no idea in her waking
state; and moreover in the hypnotic state she remembers all the
incidents of the whole period since the nervous shock, (p. 266).
This volume also contains equally interesting studies by Guinon and
Blocq on states of somnambulism.

SORBONNE, PARIS. A. B.

NEW BOOKS.

The Philosophy of Mind. G. T. LADD. New York, Scribners, 1895.

Pp. XIV + 414. $3-
Elements of Ethics. J. H. HYSLOP. New York, Scribners, 1895.

Pp. VII -f 470. $2.50
Monism as Connecting Religion and Science. E. HAECKEL. London,

Black; New York, Macmillan, 1894. Pp. VIII + 117.
The Factors in Organic Evolution. D. S. JORDON. Boston, Ginn &

Co., 1894. Pp. V+ 149.
Comte, Mill and Spencer : An Outline of Philosophy. J. WATSON.

Glasgow, Maclehose ; New York, Macmillan, 1895. Pp. XX -f-

302. $1.75.
Mental Development in the Child and the Race : Methods and Processes.

J. M. BALDWIN. New York and London, Macmillan, 1895.

Pp. XVII f 496.

Amphioxus and the Ancestry of the Vertebrates. A. WILLEY. Colum-
bia University Biological Series, II. New York and London,

Macmillan, 1894, Pp. XIV + 316.
Transactions of the Illinois Society for Child Study. Vol. I, No. i.

Chicago and New York, Werner Co., 1895. Pp. 73 -f XLIII.

50 cts.
Imagination in Dreams'and their Study. F. GREENWOOD. London,

John Lane ; New York, Macmillan, 1894. Pp. IX + 198.

PSYCHOLOGICAL QUESTIONING. 21$

The Study of Ethics. A Syllabus. J. DEWEY. Ann Arbor, Register

Publishing Co., 1894. Pp. 151.
Elements of Psychology. Syllabus of Philosophy, I. J. H. HYSLOP. New

York, Columbia College, 1895. Pp. 131. $i.
Popular Scientific Lectures. E. MACK. Translated by T. J. Me-

Cormack. Chicago, Open Court Co., 1895. Pp. 313. $i.
The Psychology of Childhood. F. TRACY. Second ed. Boston,

Heath, 1894. Pp. XIII -f 170.
Twelfth Annual Report of the Bureau of Ethnology (1890-91.) J. W.

POWELL. Washington, Gov. Printing Office, 1894. Pp.

XLVIII + 742.
Logic. C. SIGWART. Trans, from second German edition by H.

Dendy ; 2 vols. London, Sonnenshein ; New York, Macmil-

lan, 1895. Pp. XII + 391 and VIII + 584. $5.50.
Lehrbuch der Psychologie. W. VOLKMANN. Edited by C. S. Cor-
nelius. Fourth ed., Bd. II. Cothen, Schulze, 1895. PP-

568.

PSYCHOLOGICAL QUESTIONING.

ON OUR EARLIEST RECOLLECTIONS OF CHILDHOOD.

We possess very few observations on our earliest recollections.
I should like to make a series of observations in this subject. I
shall be grateful to all persons who will send answers to any or all of
the following questions :

1. Age and usual occupation.

2. Do you have good visual representations of object in general ;
viz., can you form a visual image of an apple or of a lamp, etc. ?

3. Do you have good auditory representations (of sounds), viz.,
have you auditory representations of the voices of your friends ?

4. What is the earliest recollection of your childhood ? Please
describe it as fully as possible. How clear is it, and what was your
age when the fact recollected occurred ?

5. Had this fact a particular importance in your life, and if so, in/
what way ?

6. Has anyone ever related this fact to you, or do you remember
it yourself ?

7. Can you give any explanation of this recollection, and if so,.
what?

8. What is the second recollection of your childhood? How
far apart are these two in time ?

2l6 NOTES.

9. Of what period of your life do you first have many recollec-
tions without connecting them in the time series of your life ? How
do they appear ; are they clear, are they visual or auditory, etc. ?

10. From what period of your life do you begin to have recol-
lections of the time series of your life ?

11. Do you ever have recollections of your childhood in your
dreams ? If so, what ?

Please send the answers to these questions to Victor Henri,
Leipzig (Germany), Johannis Alice 12. II.

NOTES.

Mr. J. S. MacKensie, M.A., has been called to the chair in
Philosophy in University College, Cardiff.

The Annde psychologique, of which announcement was made in an
earlier number of this REVIEW, will be issued in March, 1895. The
subscription price (7 fr., instead of 5 fr., as previously announced)
may be sent directly to M. Alf. Binet, 29 Rue Madame, Paris, France.

We have received Bd. I, Heft i, of a new serial publication,
edited by Prof. E. Krapelin, of the University of Heidelberg, entitled
Psychologische Arbeiten (Leipzig, Engelmann, 5 M.)

The attention of readers of the REVIEW is called to the special
announcements made by the editors on the second cover-page of this
number.

VOL. II. No. 3. MAY, 1895,

THE PSYCHOLOGICAL REVIEW.

PRELIMINARY REPORT ON IMITATION.1

BY PROFESSOR JOSIAH ROYCE,

Harvard University.

In calling these few notes a Preliminary Report, I have
deliberately wished to ask for all the indulgence which the
phrase itself can properly invite. I have none but tentative
considerations to present. I mean to tell something of the
mere plan and programme of a research which I have ven-
tured to begin, but which I cannot hope ever rightly to
finish, concerning the processes that enter into the structure
and growth of our imitative functions. In making my state-
ment, I shall first be led to speak, perhaps at far too great
a length, about the difficult problem of the possible classifi-
cation and definition of the processes which we can call, with
more or less right, imitative. I shall do so because my ex-
perimental work, later briefly sketched, has already sug-
gested to me, not only the need, but at least one motive of
such a classification. Then I shall very briefly indicate the
first beginning of an experimental study of some simple imi-
tative processes which I have been prosecuting only since
October i, at Harvard, under the guidance of my colleague,
Prof. Miinsterberg. If my little sheaves are, so far, very nat-
urally lean, they may still suggest the fact that in this field
the harvest is plenteous, whatever you may think of any of
the laborers.

1 Read at the December meeting of the American Psychological Association, at
Princeton.

217

2 1 8 JOSIAH RO YCE.

I.

If we ask ourselves : * what is the definition of Imita-
tation?' we soon find that any effort to separate imitative
motor functions, in ourselves, from those which are not imi-
tative, or imitative conscious processes from those mental
processes which are not imitative, is a very difficult thing.
Aristotle, who first undertook to define the psychological
category of imitative mental processes, and of their correla-
tive expressive functions, was quickly led to extend the term
imitation until it came to include the most original produc-
tions of that poetic art which he himself called more philo-
sophical than history. No student of the subject can easily"
avoid a wide extension of the category in question. Prof.
Baldwin, in defining imitations (from a general biological
point of view), by the very wide characterization which iden-
tifies them with * circular ' reactions, or with ' motor pro-
cesses that tend to reproduce their own stimuli,' has
seemed, I suppose, to many of his readers, to have made the
concept of imitation far too inclusive for psychological con-
venience. All acts of sensuous attention are, of course, such
circular motor processes. Again, is the insistent brooding of
a mourner, as such, an imitative process? Yet it, of course, in-
volves usually many circular reactions. Yet, from another
side, there are facts that Prof. Baldwin himself has noted in
passing, and will regard as familiar, but that would seem to
tend to make even a still wider definition than this one de-
sirable. In the laboratory experiments, later to be men-
tioned, I ask my subjects to listen to a rhythmic series of
taps (made with an electric hammer), and then to reproduce
this series by means of an electric key. Now, suppose that
a subject persistently guides himself, in this process, as one
of my subjects has often done, and as, no doubt, many people
would do, by first, more or less deliberately, translating the
series of taps to which he listens into a visualized image of
pencil strokes arranged at intervals on paper, or of points
marked off on a line ; and suppose that he hereupon regularly
makes his key-imitation by translating back from the visual-
ized space intervals, and perhaps from the muscular feelings

PRELJMINA R Y REP OR T ON JMITA TION. 2 1 9

of making the visualized pencil strokes into those muscular
movements which reproduce the sound at the key. I sup-
pose we should all agree that here not only is the final re-
production of the original series an imitative process, but the
translation into visual and muscular terms, which serves as
an intermediate instrument, is itself already an imitation.
But, if so, the intermediate stage, which, be it noted, was
not, in the subject noted, a spontaneous accidental associa-
tion, but which was the gradual and habitual outcome of all
the motor processes of his careful attention, and which arose
as an incident of his deliberate effort to reproduce what he
heard, — this intermediate stage is surely not itself the result
of a function that reproduces its own stimulus, but of a
function that produces, in image form, contents which are
not those of the stimulus, but which have relations simi-
lar to those presented in the regular stimulus. But that
imitations are thus often translations, reproductions which
do not even mean to bring back the original stimulation, but
which do mean to interpret it, by setting over against it its
illumining counterpart in terms of some other set of stimu-
lations, this, at least, on the highest levels of consciousness,
is a commonplace. Aristotle already told us of art as in-
tending to imitate life by producing before our eyes some-
thing that is in pretty marked contrast to life, e. g., an
heroic tragedy. My subjects, at the key, as you will later
see, find themselves both voluntarily and involuntarily doing
a good deal of this same general sort of thing, — their imita-
tions being often essentially interpretations, just as a trans-
lator imitates the original text precisely by meaning to write
out, not the words which he gets as a stimulus, but the words
of another tongue, which may, as faithfully as possible, serve
the same ideal purposes. But in the same way, apart from
the special motives of the translator, we all have very deep-
set habits of imitating the sensations of one sense by means
of deliberately recalled images belonging to another sense,
and so, by motor reactions that tend to reproduce the stim-
uli to which these latter images correspond.

Thus the effort to define imitation, whether by wide or
by narrow phrases, is at every point met with pretty decided

220 JOSIAH RO YCE.

difficulties. Ignoring, as far as possible, any but the psy-
chological point of view, I may, however, venture at this
stage to suggest some of the more prominent classes of imi-
tative functions, and of functions more or less obviously re-
lated to imitation, classes such as I myself have been led to
distinguish. Whether any convenient generalization, as to
the extent of the word imitation, is possible, we may then
briefly consider.

To us all the word imitation first suggests motor func-
tions, such as those of the child that struts about as a sol-
dier, or that runs on all fours as a dog, or that learns to talk.
Such functions are very numerous. We observe them in
many animals, including birds. Their characteristic is that
the imitator is more or less clearly aware of a model, and
finds his own body more or less able to repeat certain usu-
ally extensive and complex movements of this model. This
repetition gives satisfaction to the imitator. Imitation of
this sort is to be roughly classified as either more or less
critical. Sometimes the imitator is content with the rough-
est reproduction. Sometimes he is cautious, and is watch-
fully anxious to do precisely as his model does. A mocking-
bird, as I at one period often observed in case of a house-
hold pet, appears to study with very great care at least some
of the series of notes that he reproduces. Some children far
surpass others in an early pedantry about the enunciation
and use of their words. In any case, meanwhile, the sub-
jective experiences of the imitator are here, at best, only in
part identical with those given him in the stimulus presented
to his senses by his model. He hears sounds, and replies by
sounds, but of course he feels, more or less, the muscular and
other organic disturbances incident to the reproduction. He
sees the movements of his model. He both sees and feels
his own imitative movements, and in all this he feels the
latter as his own. In consequence, the imitator usually takes
what is often called a decidedly ' subjective ' sort of interest
in his power to imitate. His activity has thus two strongly
contrasted aspects. He watches his model, so far as he
watches it at all, with a highly objective faithfulness. So
far, his imitation depends upon a theoretical and very self-

PRELIMINAR Y REP OR T ON IMI TA TION. 2 2 I

surrendering sort of outward scrutiny. On the other hand,
he delights in his own imitative powers as his own, i. e., as
corporeally interesting events in his own organism, just as
even the mocking-bird very obviously does. On this side
the activity is, in the popular sense of the word, as self-
centred as is eating or catching prey. That is, it is an ac-
tivity whose conscious aspect involves an interest in inter-
organic experiences. And, on this side too, the imitative
process, in our children, is a great meeting place about which
all sorts of self-considerate and self-conscious interests gather.
Thus one sees how highly inter-organic, or subjective, as
well as how highly outward-looking, objective, the imitative
consciousness in the present class of cases has to be. Hence
the enormous fecundity and various outcome of such imita-
tive interest. Vanity and conscience, ideal devotion and
flippant mockery, tame subserviency and the loftiest origi-
nality,— all these tendencies alike may, and in fact normally
do, take root in this fruitful soil, and any of them may grow
into the child's later character, and all because he was, in the
first place, disposed to repeat the complex motor processes
of his models, and so was forced to set off his consciousness
of his own movements against his perception of the move-
ments of others, thus emphasizing both his ideas of himself
and his ideas of his models, each set of ideas by contrast with
the other set. Imitation may thus become, to use the words
again in their purely popular sense, the most self-abnegating
or the most self-considerate of tendencies, according as, in
the end, one or the other of these opposing drifts of attention
gets emphasized, i. e., according as one comes to consider
rather his own imitative organism or the outside model.

So much for a first and most familiar class of processes
defined as imitative. But we all of us extend the word imi-
tation to include those intelligent functions which tend to the
voluntary production of external objects resembling certain
other objects called the models of the objects produced.
Thus, drawing, painting, modeling, building, mechanical
skill of all sorts, are universally named imitative functions.
In our own cases such functions, as a class, are obviously al-
most altogether derived, directly or indirectly, from the

222 JOSIAH ROYCE.

functions of the former class just characterized. We learn,
namely, to reproduce things, in whole or in part, by first
having learned to imitate people. Mechanical skill may early
become self-directing. But it is probably always, at the
start, socially guided. Psychological complications are, ac-
cordingly, here of much the sort as in the foregoing class of
cases. Our imitations of objects involve vast numbers of
relatively controllable conscious processes besides our per-
ception of the finished products which resemble the stimu-
lating models. And here, too, in consequence, both our rela-
tively objective, or outward-looking, and our relatively sub-
jective, or inward-looking, interests get a correlative devel-
opment as we learn to imitate — a development which may
have the utmost complexity, and the most momentous psy-
chological consequences. On the whole, however, the imi-
tation of things generally tends, as they say, to send us ' out
of ourselves,' i. e., outside of our interest in the processes of
our own organisms, still more than does the imitation of the
mere acts of people. Our imitative deed is transient; but,
when we make something by the deed, its product here re-
mains to calm our more anxious or our vainer interest in our
own motor processes as such. Hence it is that musicians
are more subjective in mood than are architects; and it is
easier to be vain about matters of social etiquette than about
one's skill as a carpenter, in case one has any such skill;
while, to pass to another case where imitation is complicated
with originality, nobody can judge his own book while it is
in press as he can after it is in cold print and binding before
him.

Now, I have laid stress upon the factors present in these
two classes of cases of imitation, because I have meant to use
them to illustrate the general nature of imitation itself. In
these two classes of cases imitation is not merely, as a psy-
chological process, the reproduction of a series of sense stimu-
lations, or of external perceptions by means of a series of
motor processes ; but it is something still more complex. It
is not only a process by which we reproduce one set of data
by means of another set of data like the first, but it is also a
process by which we get. two, setst of data whose inevitable

PRELIM IN A R Y REPOR T ON IMI TA TION. 2 2 3

•contrasts are as interesting and as instructive to us as
their purposed resemblances. We get an interpretation
of the perceived model through the imitation of it. On the
other hand, to say that imitation, in these cases, is an act
whose main motive is to interpret my perceptions by means
of my deeds, is indeed true ; but of course, so far, the same
might be said of all those acts, such as looking, listening, ap-
proaching an object, grasping, touching, handling, exploring,
in the perceptive field, — of all acts, in short, which involve
intellectually valuable motor processes. What, then, is the
characteristic feature of the imitative acts in the mentioned
classes of cases ? Does it not obviously lie in the fact that
my interpretation of what I am usually said to perceive out-
side of my organism, in the external world, is, in the case of
these classes of imitations, conditioned upon my setting over
against my perceptions a series of motor processes, or of
perceived results of motor processes, which in its wholeness
contrasts with the other series in the one principal fact that
the motor processes, the imitative deeds or their results,
appear to me relatively controllable, plastic, reproducible at
will, while otherwise the two series are largely similar.
When I learn to grasp an apple, the grasping is indeed, once
learned, an easily reproducible and so controllable deed,
and on suggestion is remembered as such. But when I learn
to say apple, upon hearing the word pronounced, the act,
once in my power, is felt as controllable, but as to result it
resembles its model (namely, the word apple, pronounced
by my neighbor) — something that concerns not its controlla-
bleness, but some of its other characters. Thus, in these
cases, imitation is definable, from the psychological side, as
an act that interprets an uncontrollable perceptive series by
setting over against it a series of experiences that appear to
be similar to it in content, but to be also in contrast with it
by virtue of their controllableness. Or, again, an imitation
is an act that tends to the interpretation of what is beyond
my power, or is independent of my movements, by contrast-
ing it with what otherwise resembles it, but is in my power,
and is a result of my movements. This feature of imitation,
viz., that it accomplishes the aim of throwing light on the

224 JOSIA H RO YCE.

uncontrollable percept by setting the controllable deed be-
side it, is, I suppose, the principal intellectual function of
the higher imitative life. That the light thrown on the pro-
cesses is throughout relative, that what I perceive outside
me helps me to know, by contrast, my own imitative act, as
well as the latter helps me to know the former, — this, after
what has been said, needs no further illustration. At the
outset, of course, we make no clear sundering between what
goes on inside our organisms and what we perceive outside
them. My point here is, it is our imitation that helps us-
first to do so by first bringing the mentioned contrast to light.
Now, however, as helping us on to another class of imita-
tive functions, we may note the fact that where I thus use
imitative processes to set off or to interpret perceived facts
that are outside of my organism, it is not necessary that the
similarity between the externally observed and the inter-
nally produced processes, between the original and its so-
called copy, should have any one established or even desired
degree of closeness. I insist, it is often the contrast as
much as the agreement between the two that interests us.
In every case so far the imitation differs from what it copies
by virtue of the associated muscular and affective accompani-
ments which make the imitation our own, as distinct from
what we merely observe without. These accompaniments
may involve all the emotions of play. In that case the imi-
tator very frequently wants his imitation to be unlike as well
as like its original. One plays in one's own original fashion.
Mocking is often more or less consciously untrue to its
model. « This is what you do/ we say to the person whom
we mock. But thereupon what we do is only a pretended
imitation — an exaggeration, of whose grotesque unreality
we then make an ideal. Children surely often do this. The
reasons for such action lie deep in the nature of the play
motives. The mocking imitation is as imperfect a copy as
are often the actions of kittens at play, when compared with
the behavior of grown cats that are seriously fighting.

If an imitation thus often sets off our consciousness of the
original by virtue of the very contrast that mingles with the
similarity, it is plain that we may look to find imitations that

PRELIMINAR Y REP OR T ON IMITA TION. 22$

not only by accident, but intentionally, represent one set of
sense data in terms of activities that give us data belonging
to another sense or to any otherwise contrasted group of
experiences. The imitation of a series of sounds by a series
of movements involves, of course, as in dancing or in beating
time, a vast number of acquired habits of conplex nature.
Yet the fact remains that such imitations do both fascinate
and enlighten us. This principle of the tendency to deliberate
idealization of our imitations, to deliberate deviations from
the literal, one finds, then, in the most varied forms, in play,
in art, in the far-reaching and deep-seated tendency, very
complex in its origin, to translate space-relations into time
relations and vice versa ; in every form of fondness for what
one may call symbolical motor processes, and so, finally,
with very momentous consequences, in all those motor pro-
cesses that are connected with the growth of our theoretical
thinking. That our thoughts are, in this general sense, con-
scious processes by which we constantly mean to imitate the
truth of the things that we experience, is perfectly obvious.
Equally obvious is the fact that to think experience is to
translate it into terms which are decidedly foreign to its
character as it comes to us, apart from such ideal reconstruc-
tion, and in its first intention. Now thinking accompanies
motor processes, abbreviated and truncated and rendered
abstract in all sorts of ways, but very obviously and highly
imitative in all the cases where we get them in any relatively
unabridged form. The gesture language is a case in point.
It gives the gesturer trains of experience of a very complex
character, which are in a summary and more or less sym-
bolic fashion similar to the primary trains of experience
which by his gestures he undertakes to describe. For ges-
tures we who speak have now learned to substitute trains of
words, which we follow with an endless chain of attentive
processes shifting from one series of images to another.
But the series of attentive processes, as it follows now these,
now those images, gives us a total inner experience which
we call an account of the experienced reality beyond the
thinking process. The value of this account we judge
by its resemblance, not in detail, but in its total net-

226 JO SI AH RO YCE.

work of related elements, to those aspects of the relatively
external experience which our thinking means to emphasize.
And yet, on the other hand, how unlike their originals our
abstract ideas mean to be. How far is the thinker's imita-
tion from being a mere inner reproduction of the external
experience about which he thinks? It is the very contrast
which here enlightens us, when it is accompanied by a con-
sciousness of the sort of agreement which we all the time
intend. In symbolic imitation the imitative subject means
to neglect all of his model except his own chosen aspect of
it ; and even this aspect he generally means to reproduce in
terms of a sort of inner experience which differs from it as
widely as the data of one sense can differ from those of
another.

So far I have mentioned ordinary imitations of the doings
of our comrades, acquired tendencies to reproduce or pic-
ture things, and then the endlessly numerous cases of con-
sciously idealized, playfully falsified or symbolically abbre-
viated imitations of the interesting aspects of things. Is it
not fair to call all these manifestations of the imitative ten-
dency? But some one will say, as people have said of both
Tarde's and Prof. Baldwin's uses of the term imitation, that
to go on in this fashion is in the end to include pretty much
all psychical processes in the field covered by the word. If
imitation occurs wherever there are relatively inner or or-
ganic experiences — e, g., images or trains of images which,
in some aspect, resemble certain relatively external or per-
ceptive experiences — then where can one name an experience
involving any images whatever, or any organic adjustment,
which will not have something imitative about it? I reply
that, if the foregoing classes of cases were all that I had to
consider, I myself should be disposed to draw the lines
about the class of processes to be called imitative from a
purely psychological point of view, in this way : An imitation
either is or accompanies a sort of motor adjustment. And,
now, what sort? I answer: So far as we have yet gone, an
imitation appears as an adjustment that leads to the empha-
sizing or interpreting of a train of relatively external expe-
riences, by virtue of the fact that the mental accompaniment

PRELIMINA RY REPORT ON IMI TA TION. 2 2 /

of this adjustment is a train of relatively inner experiences
(muscular feelings, or images of any sense you please, or
affective states), while the similarity of the train of internal
experiences to the train of external experiences serves, in
the midst of the mutual contrasts of the two trains, to make
livelier the consciousness of each series, when viewed side
by side with the other. Or, more briefly, an imitation is a
more or less conscious motor adjustment that tends to set off
a series of given experiences by furnishing from within the
conscious counterpart of some one or more of the aspects of
the first series — a counterpart which is both like and unlike
the original, and whose contrast is therefore often as in-
structive as its similarity.

Essential to this notion of imitation is so far the fact that
the consciousness of the imitator is as truly a consciousness
of his adjustment as it is a consciousness of his model. To
be sure, at the outset, an infant has no clear idea of himself;
but the point is that the ideas of inner and outer thus get
clarified. The two must be more or less clearly held apart.
How clearly depends upon what grade of consciousness you
are considering. Moreover, the model is not a simple sense-
fact, like a color, but is always, where we speak of imita-
tion, a complex series of facts. We imitate the complex.
We may by mere association reduplicate the elementary, but
in that case we have no true instance of imitation. Where
association by similarity takes place between a relatively
elementary fact of sense and an image, there is no imitation :
(i) because one isn't at all conscious of this association as in-
volving what we call his motor adjustment as such ; (2)
because in many cases the associated elements tend to blend,
and not to set each other off ; and (3) because by imitation
we always mean a consciously complex process of adjustment.
Imitation, in the classes of cases heretofore considered, does
not mean, therefore, mere similarity of relatively inner and
relatively outer experiences, but the similarity of a com-
plex motor series or of its complex result to a complex
perceptive series, the conscious interest lying in the anti-
thesis of the two as well as in their mutual support. The
two are not merely alike, but each is more or less consciously

228 JO SI AH RO YCE.

referred to the other. The imitation means the model, as
well as chances to resemble it.

But, if we now proceed one step further, we do indeed
seem to meet with functions which an external observer calls
imitative, but which apparently do not conform to the fore-
going definition. Many of our imitations occur with very
little consciousness. We sit when others sit, rise when they
rise, yawn when they yawn ; follow fashions without any
clear intention to do so, and catch by contagion tricks of
gesture and facial expressions, as well as states of emotion.
Panic-fear, in all gregarious animals, involves functions that
seem clearly imitative. Yet here one surely does not mean
to observe either the likeness or the contrast between the
outer and the inner experiences. In fact, a contagious emo-
tion, such as terror or a violent sympathetic faintness at the
sight of another's pain, often seems rather to forbid the ap-
pearance of any clear or conscious sympathy with one's
fellow as an objectively real person, and one gets lost in
one's own feelings even while one is imitative. Yet even
here, although the antithesis leaves consciousness, and the
relatively subjective series of inter-organic processes and ex-
periences does not help one to interpret the relatively exter-
nal facts in any deliberate way, it still remains true that we
have the one series emphasized by and dependent upon the
other; and while the imitator himself does indeed lose sight
of any clear relation of himself to his model, the external
observer calls this an imitation, and not, like the independ-
ent nest-building of two birds of the same species, a mere
resemblance in function, because the observer can see what
the imitator neglects — the close relation of dependence be-
tween the two resembling and contrasting series.

Now I, of course, cannot doubt that, biologically speak-
ing, the tendencies towards a relatively unconscious con-
formity of an animal's conduct to the conduct of its herd-
fellows, lie deeper than the more conscious and intelligent
sorts of explicitly discriminating imitation which I have so
far defined in this paper. But the question still remains as
to what it is about these relatively unconscious sorts of imi-
tation which makes them the basis of so much that is later

PREL1MINAR Y REPORT ON IMITA TION. 22g

important for the higher psychological functions. I venture *
then still to point out that the unconsciously imitative gre-
garious animal is still going through motor processes, such
as place, side by side with various series of his sensory
stimuli, a great number of inter-organic series of processes.
These processes, on the one hand, extend far beyond the
mere adjustment of his sense organs to the stimulation,
while, on the other hand, they tend to emphasize these sense
stimulations, not merely by repeating them, but by giving
them companions which in various ways resemble them, and
which therefore make them more effective in leading to fur-
ther conduct. When chickens suffer from contagious fright,
they all repeat the warning cry of the flock. Of what use is
the repetition? Each fowl is in consequence warned, not
only by his neighbor but by himself, and the inner warning
comes not only to the ear, but also through just those
motor sensations and affective inner states which accompany
this motor adjustment. No other fowl could warn this
one as the bird can warn itself. What is heard without
already puts each fowl somewhat on the alert. But the
inner resonance of the imitative act makes far more impres-
sive this whole experience of danger. So then, even here, »
an imitative act appears to me to be not so much an act that,
in Prof. Baldwin's phrase, tends to repeat its own stimu-
lus, as an act that tends to reinforce, emphasize, signalize,
clarify its complex stimulus by adding thereto other and
parallel series of internal or organic stimuli, which by their
similarity as a series shall support, while by their differences
they shall in general supplement, the stimulus in question.
This inter-organic imitation and supplementing of one series
of stimuli by a series of inner experiences is, as a fact, very
naturally connected in similarly organized beings with a
behavior that, externally viewed, appears imitative, even
when the creature in question is not interested in this imita-
tive character. Simple attention need not, from my present
point of view, be regarded as involving imitation, although
simple attention does involve a circular reaction which tends
to the repetition of its own stimulation. But if attention is
supported by the appearance of a series of experiences,

230 JO SI A H RO YCE.

motor or emotional, which are produced through the motor
adjustment, and which taken together, run parallel to a
series of stimuli and resemble it, thereby emphasizing and
supplementing it, then one has an imitative function.

I conclude, then, so far in general, that imitative func-
tions seem to me to be those which tend to emphasize, to
support, or on higher levels to interpret, a complex series of
sensory stimulations, by producing, as their accompaniment,
another series of inter-organic experiences which resembles
as a whole the first series, but which involves in general
decidedly different activities of the organism, in addition to
those of the organs receiving the stimuli. Lower cases of
imitative functions already show us the contrast, in the
midst of the similarity, between the imitative process and its
sensory stimuli. Higher up this contrast is itself made an
object of consciousness. Imitation and model are contrasted
series of presentations whose relation keeps them apart.
And hence it is that, as I myself suppose, imitation is, psy-
chologically speaking, the one source of our whole series of
conscious distinctions between subject and object, thought
and truth, deed and ideal, impulse and conscience, inner
world and external world — in short, of all those familiar and
fundamental rational distinctions which psychology has hith-
erto found so baffling. The contrast between model and
imitation is, to my mind, the first appearance in conscious-
ness of that differentiation which in the end makes internal
and external experience not merely qualitatively different —
as, of course, they more or less are from the first — but con-
sciously discriminated, as at first they seem not to be.

Biologically speaking, I should fancy that imitation might
be, in the end, explicable by something even more funda-
mental still than Prof. Baldwin's circular reactions, viz., by
those generally cooperative tendencies which must lie at the
basis of all evolution in organisms consisting of multitudes
of cells. These involve amongst their number tendencies
to direct functional agreement. What occurs in one part of
an organism must in general be repeated with variations
elsewhere, in so far as the cells of various regions may be
of the same general type, and are meant permanently to

PREI.IMINAR Y REP OR T ON IMITA TION. 2 3 I

cooperate. Such inter-organic repetitions of disturbance
(attended with wide contrasts, which run side by side with
the functional agreements) we have in all those recently
much studied physiological accompaniments of emotion ; and
in all those phenomena of functional nervous equivalents
which attract one's attention in the history of the varying
symptoms of many a complex nervous case. Here what hap-
pens to one set of cells may tend sooner or later to be repre-
sented by a more or less contrasted functional equivalent
in some other set of cells. Now these things are not yet
cases of imitation. But they suggest a basis upon which
imitative functions may have grown.

I said that my few experiments have already, without as
yet proving anything, suggested to me the need of some
such analysis as the foregoing. The scope of the experi-
ments themselves is comparatively narrow. Yet some of
you will perhaps think it already too wide.

I have desired to get some notion of the inner conscious-
ness and of the outer effectiveness of a person engaged in
acquiring skill in some imitative process. This process, as
I desired it, should be fairly simple, and yet complex enough
to involve the cooperation of a number of different habits,
interests and forms of attention in the accomplishment of
one end. I decided, by Prof. Miinsterberg's advice, to
choose the process of imitating rhythmic series of taps which
were to be made at controllable intervals by means of an
electric hammer, and imitated with an electric key by the
subjects. In choosing the particular series of taps, I have
followed my own choice and responsibility, and must con-
fess that I have tried several rhythmic series that any more
experienced psychological experimenter than myself might
have easily regarded as too complex to promise any definite
results. Yet so far, despite various inevitable eddies in' my
little stream of experience, I have not been disappointed at
the wealth of suggestions that have come to me. I have re-
garded the so-called time-sense aspect of my experiments as
a necessary, but for my purposes a very subordinate, aspect.
The nature of the rhythmic consciousness itself comes in my
way, but rhythmic consciousness is here only the instru-

232 JO SI AH RQ YCE.

ment, not the end. The chief aim for the first has been to
get a pretty careful series of records of the facts, and to
wait for experience to indicate the best further procedure.
The facts collected have so far been objective records of the
imitations and a constant series of subjective records written
down at once, after such experiment, by the hands of the
subjects concerned.

As for the physical mechanism used, a mechanism which,
as I frankly confess, better hands than mine generally guide,
it is in summary this: On the axle of a kymograph drum
wheels revolve armed with platinum points, arranged at
pleasure for each rhythmic series as used, the points succes-
sively dipping into mercury contacts at the lowest point in
each revolution of their respective wheels. The completed
contact gives in each case one stroke of an electric hammer.
The moment of each stroke is recorded by an electric pen
on the kymograph drum, the record itself being controlled
by a tuning-fork tracing. Any one rhythmic series having
been heard through by the subject (who sits holding,
ready for his response, a metallic key especially prepared
for these experiments), the subject, at the word 'ready,'
repeats the rhythm that he has heard, by making suc-
cessive connections between the point of the key and a
mercury contact beneath. The key itself is arranged so as
to be noiseless, or nearly so, in its own movements. At
times it is arranged in the same circuit with the hammer,
and then the subject, in making the contacts, tries to repeat
the very sounds which he has heard and at the same inter-
vals. At other times this connection is avoided, and then
the subject makes his imitative contacts with a ' silent key '
depending on the inner light only. Every imitative series
of key-contacts is recorded on the same drum with the
rhythmic series of hammer strokes which was to be imitated.
The routine of each experiment is simply that the kymo-
graph is started; the subject, who cannot see, although he
does indeed hear the rotation of the mechanism, hears the
word ' ready,' and then the series of hammer taps to be imi-
tated. These taps, of course, cannot under these circum-
stances be made perfectly uniform, owing to the uncontrolla-

PRELIMINA R Y RE FOR T ON IMITA TION. 233

ble variations of the hammer's relation to the magnet; but
they have no regular emphasis, and subjects learn to ignore
the more ordinary of the caprices of the hammer. The
rhythm being completed, there is a very brief pause for re-
adjustment, when the subject, at the repeated word 'ready,'
proceeds to beat off on the key as exact an imitation as he
can of what he has heard. He then at once records dated
and numbered notes of his subjective experiences during the
experiments, and the records are filed.

So far most, although by no means all, of the records
have been taken in work upon two rhythms, both complex
enough to make the labor of apperceiving and reproducing
them with relative exactitude decidedly noteworthy. They
have first been learned, then practised upon daily, or as
often as possible, their rates being very widely varied, while
keeping the relations of the intervals constant. Separate
series of experiments upon the estimation of slight changes
of rate, apart from imitation, have also been recorded. And
a considerable number of records have been taken of the
skill of the subjects in independently giving and varying by
minimal steps each rhythm after it had been learned. Of
late one of the rhythms has been deliberately distorted by
introducing irregularly placed new points into three of its
more noteworthy intervals; and the vast change thus sud-
denly introduced into an already well-established series of
conscious data has been studied, both objectively and sub-
jectively.

The subjects include at present four women and four
men, all of a fair although decidedly varied amount of intro-
spective preparation. Three have a fair musical training.
One of these is especially delicate in rhythmical perception.
One of the unmusical subjects, on the other hand, is espe-
cially imperfect as to all clearer rhythmical consciousness.
Another is a Japanese. Questions have been asked for the
subjective records as the state of the experiments seemed to
indicate. Above all, I have wanted to know what it means
to the subject to try to catch, to hold, to make an ideal for
action, of this series of monotonous taps with their varying
intervals. I have now about 200 of these subjective notes,

2 34 JO SI AH RO YCE.

corresponding to about 1000 repetitions of the various
rhythms.

Well, so far, I have been especially struck by the fact
that the process of holding for imitation involves, according
to the records, the most widely varying subjective pro-
cesses, which do not seem to be constant, even for one sub-
ject, in any such way as you would expect. One catches
the rhythm and prepares to repeat it by means of what ap-
pear in consciousness as the most heterogeneous materials.
There is first, of course, the case where one tries, volunta-
rily or half involuntarily, devices which are either con-
sciously abstract sorts of imitation, such as counting, or else
involve the use of voluntary muscular movements, of hand
or of foot, made in time to the rhythm while one hears it.
But curiously enough, in many cases, and with some of the
subjects, devices of this kind are felt as rather hindering
than helping the imitation. Interesting also, with some sub-
jects, is the lack of any preference for any particular set of
these voluntary or semi-voluntary motor devices. But next,,
side by side with these voluntary processes, or instead of
them, there appear unconsciously selected masses of varying
organic feelings, which seem to be quite involuntary in their
special origin and which are at least nearly always unex-
pected. These, when they come, keep some sort of time
with the rhythm, and may help to apperceive it. They are
described as inner beatings, ' in the head,' « in the neck,' « in
one temple,' « in the ball of my thumb,' as tinglings, throb-
bings, or what not. These vary most remarkably from ex-
periment to experiment, appear to vary quite apart from
one's expectation, to come and go as they choose. To these
are joined on occasion all sorts of involuntary associations
of a more or less symbolic sort — 'ideas of urgency,' or of
' deliberation,' or of merriment, or of other such sorts famil-
iar to all who note musical associations. Visual associations
join themselves — a dark rhythm has been mentioned in one
case. The visualization of the intervals as space intervals is
not unknown. All these phenomena show so far a rather
baffling variety, which forbids one easily to reduce them to
the terms of habit. The whole process, at least in all its

PRELIM IN A R Y REP OR T ON IMITA TION. 235

earlier stages, show far less routine than I had expected.
The report of definable 4 waves of attention,' as such, has
been rarer than I should have anticipated. Perhaps further
introspection will distinguish these facts better. But, of
course, when the rhythm is once well learned, all the fore-
going processes may and sometimes do lapse into a mere
sense, that « I know all this.' Then, however, one still has
a model general idea or ideal of the one rhythm, * just like a
sentence,' as the subjects are wont to say — a general idea of
the one rhythm, which is still variable as to its tempo. By
as elaborate devices for variation of the facts as I can devise,
I am just now trying to run down what this general ideal of
the variable unity of the one rhythm really is. But to
speak of this would take me beyond my space. Nor have I
as yet any report to make as to the time facts of the rhythm
experiments.

I have meant to state a problem, viz., that as to the essen-
tial nature of the processes called imitative, and to report
the mere fact of a research now under way. You may see
how one of these reports suggests why the other is an indi-
cation of matters worthy of further study. Herewith my
present purpose and your time are alike exhausted.

STUDIES FROM THE PRINCETON LABORATORY

(I-V.)1

I. MEMORY FOR SQUARE SIZE.

BY J. MARK BALDWIN AND W. J. SHAW.

The experiments of this study were performed at To-
ronto by Prof. Baldwin and Mr. W. J. Shaw, during the
winter of 1 892-3. 2 The object was to determine the accur-
acy of the memory for size, as affected by the lapse of time.
A figure of two dimensions was selected for experiment
because of the tendency to measure linear size in terms of
well-known units of length. Circles tend to be measured by
their radii, but in the case of the square, the impression is
that of the area, and the natural memory-image is not so
liable to be corrected by comparison with standards fixed in
mind by repeated experience.

The experiments proceeded by three different methods :
(i) Selection from a Variety. A single figure (the normal,
150 mm square) was drawn on a black-board and shown to a
large college class ; after a certain time a number of squares
of various sizes were shown simultaneously, and the class
was requested to designate the one that appeared to be the
same size as the normal. The squares ranged from 130 to
210 mm by intervals of 20 mm, and the time intervals were
10, 20 and 40 minutes. The class consisted of about 225
persons, of whom some 50 were ladies. (2) Identification.
Here the normal square was first shown, and afterwards one
other square; the subjects were asked to say whether the
latter appeared to be greater, equal to, or less than the
normal. The time intervals were the same as before, and

1 These studies were all concluded in the college year '93-' 94.
* Reported in these words to the Amer. Psych. Ass., Dec., 1893, by H. C. Warren.
236

STUDIES FROM THE PRINCETON LABORATORY.

237

the second square was in every instance 20 mm greater than
the normal.

Both series were treated by the Method of Right and
Wrong Cases, and the two results showed remarkable agree-
ment. The percentage of right cases is shown in Table I.

TABLE I.

I. By Selection.

II. By Identification.

10 min.

64.1

87.6

20 " . .

59-3

82.7

40 " . .

36.4

58.5

Plotting the results (Fig. i), we find the memory curves, as
they may be called, practically parallel, but the degree of
accuracy is much higher by the second method than by the
first. In each there is a rapid falling off at first, then a
period of gradual descent, and finally another rapid drop.

80-

20'

10'

The greater accuracy of the results in II is partly due to
the manner of stating the question. Should the memory-
image of the normal square either remain unaltered, or
decrease in size, the subject would respond correctly that
the second square was the greater, and he would respond
incorrectly only if his memory-image had increased sensibly
in size from its original. Whereas, in the series by Selection
his responses would be classed as incorrect if his memory-

J. MARK BALDWIN AND W. J. SHAW.

image had either increased or decreased sensibly. A further
source of error in the series by Selection was the disturbance
due to simultaneous contrast between the figures. Some
special experiments were afterwards made to determine the
effect of this contrast (see Study II, below).

In discussing the form of the two memory-curves so
reached, it must first be observed that their real origin
is not at A, but at a point, or points, near B. For the
difference of 20 mm is very much greater than the least
discernible difference between two squares observed in
immediate succession ; hence, even if a considerable interval
should elapse before the second square is shown, no incorrect
judgment will be given. The effect of this is to make the first
falling off, when once it begins, even more rapid than indi-
cated on the diagram, and possibly also to carry out the
parallelism between the two curves still further. The reason
for the sudden falling off may lie in the conditions of the
experiments. The subjects began to take notes on a lecture
immediately after the normal square was shown, and there
was consequently a sudden withdrawal of attention from the
memory-image, allowing it to fall into great indistinctness at
once. After this first influence had taken effect, there was,
it seems, but little change until the ordinary factors which
tend to make the image more vague, began to take effect.
The work of these factors, which one would scarcely expect
to become apparent within 40 minutes, may have been
hastened by the fatigue arising from steady application.1

(3) The third series proceeded by what was termed the
Method of Reproduction. A normal square having been
shown, as before, the subjects were asked, after the stated
interval, to draw a square of the same size on paper. The
normal in this case was 170 mm square. The reproductions
were almost always too small, their average being 146.0
after 20 min. and 146.4 after 40 min. This result was rather
unexpected, as the other series had indicated a tendency of
the memory-image to increase in size beyond the original.
It may be attributed to two factors: (i) The muscles of the

xThe results were examined for a possible difference between the two sexes, but
4fee variations, wei*. neither marked: nor constant ia direction.

STUDIES FROM THE PRINCETON LABORATORY. 239

hand were fatigued from continuous writing, and this tended
to give the impression of a figure larger than that actually
drawn. (2) The paper on which the drawing was made was
not much larger than the actual size of the normal; any
figure coming close to the edges would appear very large,
since it occupied so large a portion of the field. Hence
there was a tendency to draw the square too small. On this
account it was decided to separate the results obtained by
this method from the others, where the conditions were
more nearly alike.

II. FURTHER EXPERIMENTS ON MEMORY FOR SQUARE SIZE.

BY H. C. WARREN AND W. J. SHAW.

The experiments were taken up at this point by Messrs.
Warren and Shaw, at Princeton. A possible objection to
the Selection Method lay, as has been said, in the disturbing
influence of simultaneous contrast. To investigate this, the
following experiment was performed : Ten squares, ranging
between 100 and 190 mm, were drawn in promiscuous order
on a large sheet of paper; on another sheet of the same size
a single square was drawn as normal, and the two sheets
were placed in different rooms. The subjects observed the
normal first, and going at once to the other room designated
the square which appeared equal to it. The normal used
was 1 20 mm in one instance and 170 mm in another. In
each case there was a marked attraction towards the center of
the series, the average for the normal of 120 mm being 123.3,
and for that of 170 mm, 165.

On this account it seemed desirable to supplement the
Toronto experiments by others, and to employ ,a somewhat
different method, using a series which combined the advan-
tages of Selection and Identification. The object was to
determine the threshold, i. e., the (average) least perceptible
difference from the normal after a given period of time. In
each experiment the normal was first shown, and after the
interval another square as near the threshold as the latter
could be determined from the previous experiments; the
experiments were continued until the threshold was found.

240

ff. C. WARREN AND W. J. SHA W,

When the squares were shown in immediate succession
(interval of no minutes = perception), the threshold was found
to be 3 mm for squares of about 150 mm. When the interval
was increased it was found to make an essential difference
whether the second square was the larger or the smaller.
For an interval of 10 minutes the threshold was 8 mm if the
second was smaller, while it was but 5 mm if the second was
larger; for 20 minutes it was somewhat less than 8 mm if the
second was smaller, and less than zero (a minus quantity!) if
the second was larger; that is, when two squares of the
same size were shown, 20 minutes apart, the second was pro-
nounced the smaller by over 50 per cent, of the subjects
(actually, 63 per cent.)

That this result was not accidental (the conditions ren-
dered any collusion impossible) was proved by the substantial
agreement of all the experiments, pointing as they did with-
out exception in the same direction. The entire series
(marked a in Table II) was performed on the same subjects,
a college class of about 50, Juniors and Seniors, on nine
separate occasions, the ro-minute intervals being taken first.
Besides this the table shows two experiments (marked fr) on

TABLE II.

Interval and order.

Difference between I (normal) and II.

20 mm

12 mm

lomm

8 mm

5 mm

3 mm

o mm

6

—

—

95 (c)

87 (c)

63 (c)

4 mm = 59
2 mm —- 44
lc)

85=
(c)

II< or > I

16

—

—

—

—

50 (a)

—

C

II<I

10 ....

87 (d)

—

70 (a)

53 (a)

—

—

II>I

20 ....

—

—

75 (b)

94 (a)

75 (a)

65 (a)

(63<

II<I

20

82 (d)

82 (a)

37 (b)

67 (a)

—

—

•j 24
(I3>

(a)

H>I

The figures denote percentage of right answers, except under o mm, where they
denote the judgment (=, > , or <,) actually made. The normal was 150 mm square-

STUDIES FROM THE PRINCETON LABORATORY. 241

two other college classes of 50 and 65 respectively, where
squares of 150 and 160 mm were used, with a 2O-minute
interval, the normal being smaller in the former case and
larger in the latter. The lack of practice makes the thresh-
old much greater in these instances than in the others, but
they exhibit the same difference, depending on the order of
sequence. The line of values marked c shows the experi-
ments on squares immediately succeeding one another
(o minutes interval), taken with still another set of subjects,
and the two values marked d are taken from the earlier
experiments by Identification.

These results unite to show that besides the growth of
inaccuracy, or indistinctness, in the memory-image, there is
another factor at work, by which the memory-image tends to
grow larger as the time interval increases. The table gives
three cases which allow direct comparison between an in-
creasing and a decreasing sequence: (i) With unpracticed
observers (see b\ 10 mm increase from the normal was noted
by only 37*7* after 20 minutes, while the same amount of
decrease was noted by 75V<>- (2) With practiced observers
(a) ,8 mm increase was noted by 67%, and the same decrease by
49*A»' (3) With the same observers as (2), the final test, after
considerable practice, was with two equal squares, separated
by 20 minutes interval; 63% pronounced the second square
smaller, 24^ equal, and iyj0 larger. Comparing this with
the observations on the threshold for perception, we see that
while half of the subjects can distinguish a difference in the
latter case only when it amounts to 3 mm, in case of a 20-
minute interval a majority actually think they perceive a
difference when none exists, indicating plainly that their
memory-image has grown by more than 3 mm, -apart from
any increase in the extent of the territory lying l below
the threshold.'

These results are not so satisfactory as the earlier series
(see Table I) for determining the actual law of the threshold,
on account of the increased degree of practice as the experi-
ments proceeded. But they bring out clearly this fact of
the growth, or exaggeration, of the memory-image. The fol-
lowing explanation, based on direct deductions from Weber's

242 H. C. WARREN AND W. J. SHA W.

Law, is suggested to account for this exaggeration. As
given here, it assumes Weber's Law to hold rigidly ; but
even if we accept the latter only in the modified form that
the increments of sensation grow less rapidly than the increments
of stimulus, it will be seen to apply as a constant tendency,
and will produce the result indicated, if the supposition on
which it is based be admitted.

A B 9 E

i- -I- -1- n — i — i-

IM ID jjj

Let AC be the normal stimulus, and AB, AE the stimuli

AC AE
just perceptibly different from it. Then - = - = r,

a constant for the entire series, according to Weber's Law;
and CE > BC. Now the central stimulation of the memory-
image may assume any magnitude >AB and <AE, and any
image within these bounds may be identified with the mem-
ory-image in respect to size. As there is no objective
regulation of the stimulus, the actual representations will tend
to distribute themselves, according to the theory of chances,
evenly between B and E ; but the images around B and E,
and decreasingly towards C, will tend to be rejected as too
small and too large, respectively. As the memory-image be-
comes indistinct, however, the imagination-images nearer C
are less frequently rejected, and at length no images will be
rejected between two given points, M and N. Now since the
actual reproductions are distributed evenly between M and N,
and none are rejected, the average of these will tend to assume
the function of memory-image; that is, the point D, midway
between M and N, will tend to become the basis of judg-
ment, since AD is the average of the unchallenged images.
But, since CN is always greater than MC, the point D will
always lie beyond C; i. c., AD > AC. Thus there will
always be a tendency on the part of the memory-image to
grow larger, as soon as there is any tendency on its' part to
become vague or indistinct; and the continuation of this
process will be limited only by the limits of the vagueness of
the memory-image, or by its relations to other objects or

STUDIES FROM THE PRINCETON LABORA TOR Y. 243

memory-images which afford a means of comparison and
regulation. In the instance at hand there are no such means
of regulation within very wide limits, and the exaggerating
process goes on without hindrance, so that in the end the
point B is transferred to a position beyond C, — a result
which, while unexpected and remarkable, is fully accounted
for by the above theory.

The close of the college year prevented an extension of
these experiments to intervals of 40 minutes with the same
set of men.

A word or two may be in place here regarding the rela-
tion between single experiments on a number of subjects
and a series of experiments on a single individual. In any
experiments where a number of results are combined and
their averages taken, what is sought is a representative value.
By multiplying the trials, accidental influences are eliminated
and we obtain a value representative of the given individual
under the given conditions. If the individual represents
some peculiar type, we should further compare his results
with those obtained from individuals of other types. If,
however, what we desire is the observation of an average
individual, we must make sure that our subject is such, by
comparing him with others. Rather than repeat the entire
series on several individuals, we may save time and labor by
performing a single experiment on a number together.
There are then a number of precautions to be taken,
(i) Each subject must understand perfectly the nature of the
judgment to be made. (2) The judgments must be entirely
independent. (3) The subjects must be representative — not
drawn from some one peculiar class; and they must be
governed by sensibly the same conditions. (4) • Finally,
care must be taken with the objective conditions of the experi-
ment, so that no vitiating circumstances shall creep in. — In
the present instance, every precaution was taken to fulfil
the first two and the last of these requirements, and, a num-
ber of doubtful results having been rejected, the remainder
fulfilled the conditions exactly, as far as a most careful
scrutiny and attention on the part of the two observers could
determine. Further, the subjects were acted upon by sen-

244 J. MARK BALDWIN

sibly the same conditions during the given interval. There
is, of course, room for variety of opinion as to how far rep-
resentative a college class is to be considered, and what
allowances, if any, should be made for differences in previous
occupation and differences in location with reference to the
platform where the squares were shown. The writers are
inclined to minimize these differences, and as to the former
question, it is urged that a body of men like those under
consideration are perfectly representative of the average
educated male of about 21. We believe the results to be far
more satisfactory than a quantity of experiments on merely
one or two individuals, and think that this cumulative method,
under which alone are possible certain experiments involving
a great amount of time, may safely be used in connection
with the more usual procedure.

III. THE EFFECT OF SIZE-CONTRAST UPON JUDGMENTS
POSITION IN THE RETINAL FIELD.

BY J. MARK BALDWIN.

I. Problem, Apparatus, and Methods. — The indication
given in a preceding Study (I) that the arrangement of
squares of various sizes in the visual field has an influence
upon the identification of one of them as of a certain remem-
bered size, suggested a farther research. It occurred to
the writer that any influence of contiguous squares upon
each other would be accurately measured by their joint
influence upon the subject's estimate of some other distance
on the retina. And such a distance as that lying between
the squares lends itself directly to this purpose.

An arrangement was readily effected, whereby the rati<
of the sides of two squares to each other was varied in
series of values, while the distance between the squares w;
kept constant. Any regular variations then in the judgment
of this latter distance, such as that of its mid-point, — /. e.,
the bisection of the distance between the squares, — would
due to the variations in the ratio of the square-sizes. Sucl
a problem shows practical bearings also in all matters whicl

STUDIES FROM THE PRINCETON LABORATORY.

245

require estimates of balance, division, proportion in right
lines between masses, objects, etc., in the field of vision:
such matters as the hanging of pictures, all designing of
cuts, vignettes, architectural plans, etc., which involve line
values. Of course all variations from the correct location of
a mid-point, or other critical point, lying between two
masses of material, color, etc., should be allowed for in
applying the formulae of aesthetic effect.

A further complication also arises when movement enters
into the case : the movement of the contrasted masses
toward or from each other, of the eye from one to the other
along the line of connection, or of the element of this line
whose evolution describes the line.

Experimental Arrangements. — The following description
(with Fig. i) of my device for investigating the problem is
given in some detail, since it meets the essential requirements
of such experimentation and is so simple in principle that
it may be adopted by others who desire to carry this kind
of experimentation further.

. I.

The dark room (R) communicates with room I (R/) by a
single window (W) which is completely filled with white

246 J. MARK BALDWIN.

cardboard. In this cardboard two square holes are cut
(S and S1) whose sides are of determined ratio to each other,
and whose distance from each other is measured by a slit(D)
bearing a known ratio in length to the side of the larger
square. On the wall beside the window (at Ax) is fixed the
axis of movement of a long needle which is moved upon this
axis by a pin carried round the face of the clock motor (Cm)
of a Rothe polygraph. The movement of one end of the
needle upward by the pin and downward by its own weight,
is reversed by the other end of the needle, which so carries
an arrow-head or pointed marker up and down the mm scale
marked upon the slit D. The needle bears at A the arma-
ture of an electromagnet. The magnet (E) under the arma-
ture is fixed to the cardboard and its connections are carried
into room R/ and terminate in a punch-key (K) on a table
directly in front of the window W. The reagent sits at this
key, closes the current when the needle reaches the mid-
point of the slit D, the needle is arrested by the attraction of
the magnet (E), and the reading is given on the scale mm.
The apparatus works automatically, giving a series of experi-
ments, with alternating up and down movement of the needle,
until the motor runs down. A gas jet in room R is focussed
through a large reading lens upon the scale mm, converting
the small point of the needle seen by the reagent from the
other room, into a moving bead of light. The back-ground
of the squares and of the slit is the black of the dark-room
wall, and the whole is seen by him upon the white surface of
the cardboard.

For the horizontal arrangement of the squares, the whole
apparatus is simply shifted 90°, bringing the axis of move-
ment of the needle below the window.

With the arrangements thus described experiments were
carried out on two persons; Sh., (W. J. Shaw) and T. (G. A.
Tawney), with results as given in this report.1 Both were
practiced in psychological experimentation, but Sh. more
than T.

1 My thanks are due to these gentlemen, as also to two others who gave me some
test series. For special reasons the conditions of reaction of the latter were not typical
and so they were not continued.

STUDIES FROM THE PRINCETON LA BORA TOR Y. 247

S1
In the case of each, the series of values of the ratio ^s

was -J-, J, -J, -jJg-, which gives, when S has the constant value
of 20 cm, the following series of values for S1, i. e., 10, 5,
2.50, 1.25 cm. A constant value for the distance between
the squares was selected which seemed about as likely to
occur in ordinary arrangements and experiments as any
other, /".*., J S = 10 cm.

The experiments were performed in series of 20 to 25,
called each a 'lot,' only one lot being taken at a sitting to
avoid fatigue of the eyes. The time of day was kept con-
stant, the subject was kept in entire ignorance of the object
of the research and of the results he gave, and was asked
after each series to give any impressions he might have of the
accuracy of his results, and of the variations which he made,
if any, in his method of identifying the mid-point. Careful
record was kept of all these impressions, and they turned out
to be valuable.

Methods of Identifying the Mid-point. — The two reagents
began at the very beginning of the experiments to describe
their procedure differently — a difference which was persisted
in and became in the sequel a matter of fundamental import-
ance. Sh. tended to fix his gaze upon the moving bead of
light ; followed it in its course, and stopped it when it reached
the mid-point. This, it is evident, involves an element of eye-
movement through a series of positions corresponding in ex-
tent directly to half the time D. This I shall call the
'approach method,' since the mid-point is selected only as
it is approached by the light-bead.

T., on the other hand, tended to select the mid-point first;
and endeavored to hold it fixed until the light-bead reached
it, then fixing the bead by his reaction. This evidently
gives a result largely independent of eye-movements on the
line D, and this may accordingly be called the * fixation'
method. It will be seen below that very important conse-
quences follow from this difference of method.

/. Approach Method. Vertical Arrangement. Results of Sh.
—The results of 770 experiments with the vertical arrange-
ment upon Sh., who used the 'approach' method, divided

248

MARK BALD WIN.

into 5 series of 6 lots each, are shown in Table I. In the
'vertical arrangement' the larger square was above the
smaller in all cases. The variable error is not given in any
of the tables, since it fell below the limit of accuracy of the
apparatus, i. e., the diameter of the light-bead. The uni-
formity in direction of the constant error is shown in the
small number of exceptions or minus judgments given in the
column Excpts. in the table. The words ' down,' « up,'
« both,' signify the direction of movement of the needle.

TABLE I. — Sh. App. Method. Ver. Arrgt.

Mean Var. in mm.

No.

Ratio of Sides

+2

fX

Exps.

in cm.

o

Both Directions.

Down.

Up.

W

155

20: 10

2.35

2-7

2.

6

!50

20:5

3.6

3.95

3-2

2

150

20: 2.50

3.89

4.27

3.52

0

150

20: 1.25

4.4

5-

3-8

0

165

20: o

2.8

2-93

2.66

I

The consideration of the figures given in this table
enables us to formulate the following statements for the case
in which the eye follows the stimulating bead to its point of
arrest, up and down a vertical line :

1. There is a tendency to fix the mid-point too far away
from the larger square (positive values of mean var.)

2. The direction of the tendency to error has practically
no exceptions.

3. This tendency varies in some direct ratio with the
ratio of the sides of the two squares to each other; i. e., from
.01215 of the side of the larger square when its ratio to the
side of the smaller is 2:1, to .02 of the side of the larger
when its ratio to the smaller is 16: i.

STUDIES FROM THE PRINCETON LABORATORY.

249

4. At the limiting value (o) of the side of the smaller
•square, the tendency to locate the mid-point too far away
from the larger square is about the same as when the sides
of the two squares are in the ratio 2:1.

5. The tendency to error is from 16 to 25 per cent.
stronger when the stimulating object whose location is
fixated is in movement in the same direction as the tendency
of error (down), than when it is in movement in the opposite
•direction (up).

//. Results of Sh. Horizontal A rrangement. — Passing now to
the horizontal arrangement, in which the details of apparatus
remained the same as for the vertical, I may report as before
for the two methods. The larger square was placed to the left,
the smaller to the right, and the bead of light moved right
and left over the slit between. The variations in the side
of the smaller square gave as before the series of ratios to
the side of the larger, ^-, -J, ^, ^. The following table shows
the results:

TABLE II. — Sh. App. Method. Hor. Arrgt.

Mean Var. in mm.

No.

Ratio of Sides

en

•4-J

pt

Exps.

in cm.

a

Both Directions.

Right.

Left.

w

IOO

20:5

•9

1-95

•33

20

50

20: 2.5

1.67

2-5

-7

4

5°

20: 1.25

2-73

3-

2.46

2

5o

20:0

2.1

2.

2.2

3

From the examination of Table II we gather the follow-
ing results :

1. There is a practically uniform tendency of error away
from the larger square.

2. This tendency varies in some direct ratio with the
ratio of the sides of the two squares to each other.

250

J. MARK BALD WIN.

3. The magnitude of the error is from .9 to 2.2 mm, i. e.r
.005 to .01 of the side of the larger square.

4. At the limiting value (o) of the side of the small square-
the tendency is slightly less than when the ratio of the two-
sides is 16 : i.

5. This tendency is about -J- greater when the movement
of the stimulus fixated is in the direction of the error itself
(right) than when it is in the opposite direction (left).

///. Fixation Method. Vertical A rrangement. Results of T..
— The results of 683 experiments with the vertical arrange-
ment upon T., who used the fixation method, divided into*
five series of six lots each, are as follows. See Table III.

TABLE III. — T. Fix. Method. Ver. Arrgt.

Mean Var. in mm.

No.

Ratio of Sides

£

Exps.

in cm.

O

Both Directions.

Down.

Up.

w

84

20: 10.

2.96

1.99

3.85

4

150

20: 5.

2.86

3.H

2.64

i

^o

20:2.5

3.3i

2.21

3.83

0

150

20: 1.25

2.83

2-35

3-3

i

149

20:0

1.05

.8

1-35

21

Examination of this table enables us to make again the
following statements for this subject with the method and
arrangement described :

1. There is a tendency to error in the direction away
from the larger square.

2. This tendency has so few exceptions that they are due
probably to accidental causes.

3. The amount of this tendency is given in a number
which fluctuates slightly about a value equal to .015 of the
side of the larger square.

STUDIES FROM THE PRINCETON LABORATORY.

251

4. At the limiting value (o) of the side of the smaller
square there is the same tendency to error, but it is less than
\ the error when the ratio is 1:2.

5. The tendency to error is about 50 per cent, greater
when the stimulus for fixation is moving in the direction
contrary to that of the variation itself than when it is mov-
ing in the same direction.

IV. Results of T. Horizontal Arrangement. — The experi-
ments on T. with the horizontal arrangement, his method
remaining as before that which I have called the « fixation
method,' gave the results shown in Table IV.

TABLE IV.— T. Fix. Method. Hor. Arrgt.

Mean Var. in mm.

No.
Exps.

Ratio of Sides
in cm.

a

a,
o

X

W

Both Directions.

Right.

Left.

IOO

20:5

1.64

1.91

1.38

4

5o

20: 2. 5

2.7

3-

2-5

o

5°

20: 1.25

3-25

3.65

2.9

o

25

20:0

2.6

1-53

3-9

0

From the examination of this table we may make the fol-
lowing statement of results for T. :

1. There is a uniform tendency to error in the direction
away from the larger square.

2. This tendency is from 1.64 to 3.25 mm, i. e., in this
case .008 to .016 the side of the larger square.

3. This tendency varies in some direct , ratio with the
ratio of the sides of the two squares to each other.

4. At the limiting value (o) of the side of the smaller
square the tendency to error is the same as when the ratio
between the sides of the two squares is £.

5. The tendency is about J greater when the stimulus
fixated is moving in the direction of the tendency to error
(right) than when it is moving in the opposite direction (up).

J. MARK BALDWIN.

V. Rectification Method. — It is evident that a second
series of indications may be obtained from the experiments
given above in cases in which the reagent expresses his
sense of the correctness or incorrectness of his result in each
experiment. Both Sh. and T. were instructed to indicate
after each experiment whether or not the bead gave a satis-
factory result when stopped, and also in which direction the
result should be rectified to give satisfaction. Records were
kept of all such indications. Since it involved a secondary
fixing of the mid-point, it approaches the ' fixation ' method ;
but since it followed upon the earlier determination made
when the needle was in motion, it involves influences akin to
those of the 'approach' method; so it may be considered a
combination of the earlier methods and a refinement upon
both of them, for it requires a second act of judgment or
•criticism of the result already rendered in each trial. So let
«s call it the * rectification ' method.

It is further apparent that this rectification of the result
•of any given experiment may take one of four phases. It
may be a judgment that the needle has gone too far, this
we may call rectification by 'reversal;' or that it has not
gone far enough, rectification by 'supplementing.' And
each of these kinds of rectification will include again two
instances. There will be reversals when the movement is in
the direction of the prevailing error (i. e., away from the
larger square), and when the movement is contary to the
direction of the prevailing error (i. e., toward the greater
square.) And the same two cases occur for the ' supple-
mental' rectifications.

The cases of rectification in the experiments on Sh. and T.,
both of whom were instructed to use the method, may be
thrown into the following tables, in which the four kinds of
rectification are distinguished.

Results for Sh. Rectification of Results Secured by Ap-
proach Method. Vertical Arrangement. — Giving the figures
for Sh. in the vertical arrangement we have Table V.

STUDIES FROM THE PRINCE TON LA BORA TOR Y. 2$$

TABLE V.— Sh. App. Method. Ver. Arrgt.

Reversals.

Supplementals.

No.

Ratio of Sides

in

C/3

Rects.

in cm.

a

c/i

s

c/5

£

o

£

o

1

I
X

|

o
H

i

|

3 '
&

15

20:10

I

9

10

3

2

5

14

20:5

I

7

8

5

I

6

17

20: 2.5

I

9

10

6

I

7

33

{20:1.25 )
( 20:0 J

5

18

23

6

4

10

Totals . .

79

8

43

5i

20

8

28

From this table we may conclude as follows :

1. Of the rectification of results secured by the approach
method, the 'reversals' are nearly twice as frequent as the
'supplementals.'

2. The 'reversals' are 5 times as frequent when the bead
moves against the tendency to error as when it moves in the
same direction.

3. The ' supplementals ' are 2\ times as frequent when the
bead moves in the direction of the error as when it moves in
the contrary direction.

4. Rectifications take place in ^ the entire number of
experiments.

Horizontal Arrangement. — The rectifications of Sh. for the
horizontal arrangement are shown in Table VI (first line).
TABLE VI. — Hor. Arrgt.

Reversals. •

Supplementals.

No.
Rects.

Method.

Ratio of Sides
in cm.

B

c/5

(73

B

c«

•j

o

1

o

i

B

.w

£

.M

>

13

^

£

13

3

o

0

o

o

0

o

C/2

^

?

H

%

r

Sh.

38

App.

Whole series
lumped.

8

24

32

3

3

6

T.

25

Fix.

"

12

7

19

i

5

6

254

J. MARK BALDWIN.

It results from this table :

1. The 'reversals' number 5 times the ' supplementals'
among the rectifications of data derived by the approach
method.

2. The 'reversals' are 3 times as many when the bead
moves in the direction contrary to the prevailing error (i. e.y
toward the larger square), as when it moves in the opposite
direction.

3. The supplementals are equally divided between the
two cases of opposite movement of the bead.

4. The number of rectifications is about -J of the number
of experiments.

Results for T. Rectifications of Results Secured by the Fix-
ation Method. Vertical Arrangement. — The results of T. with
the vertical arrangements appear in Table VII.

TABLE VII. — T. Fix. Method. Ver. Arrgt.

No.
Rects.

Ratio of Sides
in cm.

Reversals.

Supplementals.

IT.

E

0

C/J

2

c/i

a

o

c/5
2

|

SEJ

I

S

"3

1

I

I

I

10

20: 10

o

7

3

10

19

20:5

12

5

17

i

i

2

19

20: 2. 5

3

i

4

6

9

15

3i

j 20:1.25 )

\ 20.0 J

7

9

16

4

II

15

Total . . .

79

22

15

37

18

24

42

Table VII shows the following:

1. Rectifications by 'supplementing' are ^ more frequent
than those by 'reversal' when the results are secured by the
fixation method.

2. The 'reversals' are -J- more frequent when the bead
moves in the direction of error than when it moves in the
contrary direction.

STUDIES FROM THE PRINCETON LABORATORY.

25$

3. The 'supplementals' are \ more frequent when the

bead moves in the direction contrary to that of the prevailing

error than when it moves in the same direction as the error.

4. The entire number of rectifications is £ of the entire

number of experiments.

Horizontal Arrangement. — The rectifications of T. for the
horizontal arrangement are given in Table VII (second line).

1. Results. — The 'reversals' are three times the 'supple-
mentals' in the fixation method, horizontal arrangement.

2. The reversals are \ more when the bead moves in the
direction of error than when it moves in the opposite
•direction.

3. The 'supplementals' are five times more when the
bead moves contrary to the direction of error than when it
moves in the same direction. This result, however, is based
on too small a number of cases to be taken as a numerical
ratio.

4. The number of rectifications is \ of the whole number
of experiments.

VI. General Interpretation of Results. — We are now able to
gather up the results shown in the earlier tables in some
more comprehensive statements, based upon the whole num-
ber of experiments taken together.

I. Considering the results for the direction and amount

"Fig. 2

of error without regarding the influence of the direction of
movement of the light-bead, we may plot curves showing

256 J. MARK BA LD WIN.

the tendency and amount of error for each of the two arrange-
ments by each of the two methods. In Fig. 2 the horizon-
tal ordinate represents the constant series of ratios of the
square-sides to each other; the vertical ordinate, the size of
the error and its duration (above the abscissa denoting error
away, from the larger square). Curves (i) and (2) give the re-
sults by the approach method, vertical and horizontal
arrangements respectively ; curves (3) and (4) the results by
the fixation method, vertical and horizontal respectively.
The location of the various points of the curves is determined
in each instance by the figures given in the appropriate
table above. The curves are numbered to correspond with
the respective tables.

Inspection of the four curves gives certain general results
which unite and summarize the results already shown from
the separate tables above.

1. The four curves (representing 1,928 experiments) agree
in establishing a tendency to error away from the larger
square of from i to 4.5 mm when the side of the larger square
is 20 cm.

2. The close parallelism of three of the curves in their
common direction, and the general parallelism of all the
four, establishes the fact that the tendency to error increases
with the relative increase of the side of the larger square.

3. The position of curves (i) and (3), considered in relation
to the position of curves (2) and (4), shows that the tendency
to error, when the squares are arranged vertically, is about
twice as great as when they are arranged horizontally.

4. Comparison of curves (i) and (2) with curves (3) and
(4) shows that the method of fixation gives more uniform
results than the method of approach ; and also that the dif-
ference in result between the vertical and horizontal arrange-
ments is less when the fixation method is used. It follows
from this that eye-movements over a line hinder the correct
estimate of the parts of that line, and that this influence of
eye-movement is greater for vertical than for horizontal
directions.

II. Considering the results with regard to the direction
of movement of the light-bead by both methods and in both

STUDIES FROM THE PRINCE TON LABOR A TOR Y.

257

arrangements, we may plot the curves of Fig. 3, in which
the ordinates remain as in Fig. 2, the points on curves (i)
and (2) give the amount of error for the several contrast
ratios for the case of movements of the bead away from and
toward the larger square respectively by the approach
method, and the points on curves (3) and (4) give the amount
of error for the same two cases respectively, by the fixation
method. These amounts are reached by combining the
figures for 'down' and 'right' movements in the tables of
vertical and horizontal arrangement of the approach method,
for each contrast ratio, and combining similarly the 'up* and
'left' results of the corresponding tables of the fixation
method.

4--

Inspection of these four curves (again representing the
entire 1,928 experiments) leads us to certain conclusions.

1. Comparison of curves (i) and (3) with curves (2) and
(4) shows that the error is greater when the bead is moving
in the direction of the error.

2. This is especially the case when the approach method
is adopted, the error then being twice as great when the
movement is in the direction of the normal error as when it
is in the contrary direction [comparison of curves (i) and (2)].

3. It follows that the influence already found to be due to
eye-movements varies according to the particular direction of
the movement along the line explored. If the eye-movement
is toward the larger of the areas contrasted, it tends to cor-

258 y, MARK BALDWIN.

rect the normal error of judgment in the estimation of the
time which connects the two areas. If the movement is, on
the contrary, away from the greater area it exaggerates the
normal error of judgment.

III. The details of the instances of 'rectification' given
above serve to confirm these general conclusions, both as to the
normal error itself and as to the influence of eye-movements
upon it. By the approach method the rectifications by re-
versal are two to five times more frequent than those by sup-
plementing1. This shows that the rectifications in this instance
are really corrections of the influences now found to be due
to eye-movements. Further, reversals are three to four
times as frequent when the bead moves against the tendency
to error as when it moves in the direction of this tendency.
This shows that these corrections are much more likely in
direction opposite to that in which we now find the real con-
trast error to occur. When moving in the direction of the
contrast error the eye-movement influence gets support from
that error, and so fails of detection, and even secures sup-
plementing in this direction more frequently than the move-
ment in the opposite direction does. This is an indirect
determination of the true direction of the contrast error in
agreement with the direct experimental result.

The rectifications in the fixation method, on the other
hand, are equally divided between the « reversals ' and the
'supplemental,' showing that the influence of eye-movement
is largely eliminated by this method. And further, the dis-
tribution of both supplemental and reversals between the
two cases of movement, in one direction or the other, is now
directly reversed, i. e., the reversals are more frequent when
the bead moves in the direction of error, and the supplemen-
tals when it moves contrary to this direction, a result which
seems to show that in this case the tendency to error from
contrast is in conflict with the normal influence of eye-
movements, and the correction is made to increase the latter
in one direction, and to diminish the former (or their sum)
in the other direction.

The entire number of rectifications of all kinds (about fa
of the whole number of experiments) may be taken as a sort

S T UDIE S FROM THE PRINCE TON LA B OR A TOR Y. 2$$

of quantitative indication of the function of second-judgment,
or deliberation, upon sensory determinations of such a com-
plex character as those involved in these experiments. It is
interesting to note that this second judgment, however, does
not tend in the general result to correct the error of first
judgment; for there are about J more cases of rectifications
by displacement toward S1 (the direction of the error) than
toward S. The only case in which the correction does work
to give greater accuracy to the result is that of the use of
the fixation method, where both the original and second
judgments are comparatively free from eye-movements and
their after effects.

Finally, the great uniformity of the error of judgment is
seen in the small number of cases (69 in the entire series of
1,928 experiments) in which the mid-point was located in the
direction opposite to the prevailing error (that is, located too
far toward the large square). And even this number repre-
sents too high a figure, since the sum of the variations of
this kind in all but two series gave only 28 cases (i. e., in
1,679 experiments); the two giving the very abnormally
large figures 20 in 100 experiments (app. method, horiz. ar-
rangement) and 21 in 149 experiments (fix. method, vert.
arrangement) being evidently affected by some temporary
influences.

A series of experiments has already been begun with a
stationary stimulus (thus ruling out the influence of eye-
movements); and I hope also to complicate the case with
variations planned to introduce aesthetic elements into the
problem.

IV. TYPES OF REACTION.
BY j. MARK BALDWIN (with the assistance of W. J. Shaw.)

The experiments reported in this article were carried
out in the Toronto Laboratory in 1892—93. Three ques-
tions were set for research, all of them bearing on the ques-
tion of the degree of relativity of reaction times : either the
difference of a single individual's times, according as there

26o

J. MARK BALDWIN.

were subjective (attention) or objective (qualitative stimulus)
changes in the conditions of his reaction ; or the differences
of reaction times for different individuals under identical
conditions. To secure results comparable in the respects in
which comparisons were desired, certain precautions were
made, as follows: (i) each reagent reacted at the same hour
from day to day, and at the same hour with each other re-
agent whose reaction was to be compared with his; (2) the
order of change in the conditions of reaction (as sensory-
motor, light-dark, visual-kinsesthetic, etc.) was kept in the
main the same for the different reagents.

The Hipp and D'Arsonval chronoscopes were used, both
controlled by the records of a Konig tuning-fork recording
on the drum of the Marey motor. The « light ' reactions
were taken in a room of good south morning exposure, and
those in the dark, in a dark closet of the same room. The
stimulus was in all cases an auditory one — a sharp metallic
click — and the reacting movement was a pressure downward
of the right forefinger (in the case of the D'Arsonval instru-
ment, a pinch of that finger and the thumb). The reagents
were, besides the writers (B. and S.), Mr. Faircloth (F.),
a student who had had only the experience gained from the
practical work in this subject of the course in Experimental
Psychology. His reactions were ready and unconfused, and
from all appearances he was a normal and more than usually
suitable man for such work. The fourth, Mr. Crawford
(C.), is an honor student in this subject in Princeton. His
reactions were taken in the course of another investigation,
and being so few in number, they are included only because
they give a certain case of a capable reagent whose sensory
is shorter than his motor reaction. We hope to test him
further.

I. Variations in the Results. — Table I. shows the relative
reliability of the two instruments in these experiments.

STUDIES FROM THE PRINCETON LA BORA TOR K. 26 1

TABLE I. — Clock-corrections.

Instrument.

Const. Error.

Var. Error.

D'Ars.,

.19

.06228

Hipp,

.019

.015616

All the results secured by each instrument are corrected,
by the constant error of that instrument, before being used
either for comparison among themselves or for compound-
ing with the results of the other instrument, in the tables
which follow. The smaller variable error of the Hipp chro-
noscope makes the results of that instrument much more
reliable in the matter of absolute time-measurement. But
in the conclusions drawn below, only those results are used
in which the quanity sought is a relative one, and in which
the two clocks confirmed each other in giving ratios of
difference of the two quantities compared, both of which are
in the same sense, and each of which is larger than the
largest possible ratio of difference arising from the variable
error of the clock to which it belongs.

The mean variations are not given in the tables which
follow, because they are too complex to be of any value.
These variations were different for the two clocks, as we
would expect from the variable errors of the instruments
themselves ; they also varied with the disposition of the sub-
ject in the various groups of results which are treated to-
gether.1 The different mean variations for the different lots
of experiments varied from 10 a- to 20 er. For this reason no
deductions are attempted except those evident on the sur-
face of the results themselves.

II. Results: Sensory and Motor Reactions. — Table II. gives
the results of experiments on four persons designed to test
the current distinction between ' sensory ' and motor (' mus-
cular') reactions.

1 Finer distinctions were aimed at in some of the series, such as placing the sound
stimulus on one side only, or in the median plane below the head, etc., as well as
arranging for the difference between light and dark environment.

262

?. MARK BALDWIN.

TABLE II. — Types of Reaction.

Sensory.

Kin. Motor. Vis. Motor.

Av. Motor.

QnV»

ISJn

!

oUD-

ject.

Exps.

No

Time

No.

Time

No.

Time

No.

Time.

in <r.

in <r.

in cr.

B.

2490

1043

178

966

149

481

171

1 60

S.

2572

1017

235

995

184

560

195

187

F.

820

290

164

260

202.3

270

205.5

204

C.

212

84

132

128

157

It follows from Table II.: (i) that the current distinc-
tion between sensory and motor reactions does not hold in
the sense that the motor reaction is always shorter than the
sensory, for in the case of F. the motor reaction is 40 <r
longer, i. e., J of this subject's average sensory reaction
time. (2) As between B. and S., in the case of each of
whom the motor-time is shorter, there is a great difference
in the relative length of the sensory to the motor. In B.
the sensory time is only 18 <r, or about ^ longer than the
motor, while in the case of S. the sensory is 48 a- longer, or
about J; and this despite the close agreement of the two
subjects in their absolute motor-time. We would seem to
have, therefore, in these three observers three cases shown,
two giving very pronounced results; one a longer motor
time by J, and the other a longer sensor by J. The third
subject, B., seems to fall between these extremes, giving a
difference in favor of the motor reaction, it is true, but a
much smaller difference.

The tables also give us reason for accepting the truth of
the distinction between two kinds of motor reaction. In
both B. and S., whose motor reactions are shorter than the
sensory, we find a difference in the length of the motor reac-
tion according as the attention is given to the movement
by thought of the hand, the eyes being blindfolded ; or as
the attention is fixed upon the hand, which is seen. The
former I have called the kincesthetic motor reaction, the latter

STUDIES FROM THE PRINCETON LABORATORY. 263

the visual motor. In B. the visual motor is 220-, or about
fy longer than the ' kinsesthetic ' — that is, it is practically
equal to this subject's sensory time; while in S. the kinaes-
thetic motor is 1 1 <r shorter than the 'visual.' With F., on
the contrary, there is no distinction between the two kinds,
any possible trace of it seeming to be lost in the excessive
preponderance, in facility, of the sensory kind of reaction.

The table as a whole, then, supports the views: (i) when
the motor reaction is short in relation to the sensory (case
of S.), then this motor reaction is purest, freest from
sensory influences, such as sight, etc. ; (2) when the motor
reaction is not pure, then it is retarded by such influences as
sight (case of B.); (3) where the motor reaction is relatively
difficult and delayed, as compared with the sensory (case of
F.), there this prime difference renders all kinds of motor
reactions equally lengthy and hesitating. B. seems to stand
midway between the two others in this respect.

As I said some time ago, in making a first report upon the
outcome of some of these experiments:1 " In subjects of the
motor type the ' kinaesthetic motor ' is shorter, the ' visual
motor' time approximating the sensory reaction time."

III. Light and Dark Reactions to Sound. — The foregoing
deductions concerning the difference between B. and S., as
respects motor and sensory reactions, and also as respects
the distinction between visual and kinaesthetic motor reac-
tions, are confirmed by results of a research on the same two
subjects, in which the attempt was made to investigate the
influence of vision. Each reagent gave a series of reactions
in the light of an ordinary laboratory room, and then re-
peated the series under the same general conditions, but in
a dark chamber. In this case, in order to make the results
of the two series comparable, the kinassthetic form of motor
reaction was necessary in the series taken in the light, since
only that kind of motor reaction was possible in the dark.
The results are given in Table III.

*New York Medical Record, April 15, 1893, p. 455 f.

264 J. MARK BALDWIN.

TABLE III. — Reactions in Light and Dark.

SUBJECT.

LIGHT.

DARK.

Sensory.

Motor.

Sensory.

Motor.

No.

Av.
in a-.

No.

Av.

in <T.

No.

Av.
in a.

No.

Av.
in a-.

B.

S.

54i
537

176

237

979
1190

164

158

502
480

184
219

468
469

138

179

On examination the data of this table, compared with
those of the preceding table, may be stated as follows : We
find for B. that the sensory reaction is practically the same,
whether he react in the dark or in the light (the latter is
less by 8cr, which is insignificant in view of the variable
error). This shows this subject's independence of vision in
the sensory reaction to auditory stimulations, and is in
agreement with the results of Table II. (in which there is
a similar difference between the sensory and visual motor,
the former being longer by 70-). S., on the other hand,
shows a shortening of the sensory reaction when in the dark
by 180-, but a lengthening of the motor reaction when in the
dark by 210-, or about ^. The latter result shows this sub-
ject's dependence upon vision only in the motor kind of re-
action.1

IV. Interpretation. — Admitting that these results indicate
clearly the existence of persons whose sensory reactions to
sound are shorter than their motor reactions, and that there
is in some individuals a difference between the length of the
motor reaction, according as it is made in the light or in the
dark, we may make some general remarks on the theory oi
these differences. These results should be compared with
earlier ones, a matter which is made easier by reference to
the concise summing up of the literature of the subject by

1 The ' dark-reaction ' was not secured from F. , the ' sensory ' subject ; but we
hope to report further results obtained from C. , the similar case now found in Princeton.

STUDIES FROM THE PRINCETON LABORATORY. 26$

Titchener in Mind.1 We find cases of relatively shorter sen-
sory times similar to mine reported (for electrical stimulus)
by Cattell,2 and (for sound stimulus) by Flournoy 3. We may
accordingly say that such individual differences are clearly
established, and must hereafter be acknowledged and ac-
counted for in any adequate theory of reaction.

The attempt of Wundt, Kiilpe and others to rule these
results out, on the ground of incompetency in the reagents,
is in my opinion a flagrant argumentum in circulo. Their
contention is that a certain mental Anlage or aptitude is
necessary in order to experimentation on reaction-times.
And when we ask what the Anlage is, we are told that the
only indication of it is the ability of the reagent to turn out
reactions which give the distinction between motor and sen-
sory time, which Wundt and his followers consider the
proper one. In other words, only certain cases prove their
result, and these cases are selected because they prove that
result. It is easy to see that this manner of procedure is
subversive both of scientific method and of safely-acquired
results in individual psychology. For the question comes:
what of these very differences of individual Anlage? How
did they arise ; what clo they mean ; why do they give differ-
ent reaction-time results ? To neglect these questions, and
rule out all Anlagen but one, is to get the psychology of
some individuals and force it upon others, and thus to make
the reaction-method of investigation simply the handmaid to
dogma.

The attempts to explain the relative shortness of the
* muscular' reaction, also, by those who hold its shortness
to be a universal fact, have been unfortunate. It has been

^an., 1895, p. 74.

*P kilos. Studien, VIII., 403.

*Arck. des Set. Phy. et Nat., XXVII., p. 575, and XXVIII., p. 319. Titchener,
in his summing up, does not cite the cases of Flournoy nor the earlier report of one of
my present cases (F.) in the Medical Record, Apl. 15, 1893, although they tell directly
against his own views. My earliest case was noted by me in the autumn of 1892, and
the note in the Medical Record was written in December, 1892, before I saw either
Cattell's or Flournoy's articles. The sentences quoted from my Senses and Intellect
by Titchener in Mind, loc. cit. , were based upon my own reaction-times, taken earlier
when I had no reason to doubt the universality of the experience, as claimed by Lange
and Wundt. Titchener is accordingly wrong in citing me as favoring that position.

266 J. MARK BALDWIN.

held that the muscular reaction is shorter because it is semi-
automatic; the thought of a movement, i. e., attention to it,
being already the beginning of the innervations necessary ta
its production. This is very^ true as a principle, I think;
but it is just the application of this principle which makes it
necessary on the part of some to restrict reaction work to
people of a special aptitude. For in all those cases, either
of particular reactions in one individual or of all reactions
in other individuals, in which the movement is not so clearly
picturable as to be firmly and steadily held in the attention,
to these cases the principle does not apply. On the con-
trary, to all cases where it is difficult to get the attention
fixed upon a motor representative of the movement, a very
different principle applies, as Prof. Cattell has said. The
very attempt to picture a movement as a movement — by put-
ting the attention on its motor aspect in consciousness —
embarrasses, confuses and delays the execution of that move-
ment in these cases. If a marksman attend to his finger
on the trigger he misses the target ; if a ball-player attend
to his hands he * muffs ' the ball ; if a musician think of each
finger-movement he breaks down. The musician in the la-
boratory is usually, indeed, a glaring instance of unsuitable
A nlage !

So it is evident that these two principles need reconcil-
ing in their application to reaction-times, the principles, i. e.,
(i), that the thought of a movement already begins it, facilitates
if, quickens it ; and (2) that attention to a practised movement, in
many instances, embarrasses it, hinders it, lengthens it.

Now the practical reconciliation of just these two prin-
ciples has been made in another great department of fact,
and the actual plotting done of the cerebral arrangements
which underlie them — a solution which has such evident appli-
cation here that I wonder at its tardy appreciation. I refer
to the work in the pathology of aphasia, and the general
theory of mental ' types ' which now goes for a safe discov-
ery in the discussions of « internal speech,' < sensory vs. motor
defects' of speech, etc. I published early in 1893* an hy-

1 See the Medical Record (N. Y.), loc. cit.

STUDIES FROM THE PRINCETON LABORATORY. 267

pothesis to account for the variations in this matter of reac-
tion-time differences, in these words :

"I have endeavored incidentally, in an article now in print for
the July issue of the Philosophical RevieivJ- to account for the con-
flicting results of experiment in this field, by borrowing from the
medical psychologists the results of their brilliant analysis of the
speech function, on the basis of its pathology. The recognition of
the great forms of aphasia — /. e.t sensory and motor — and the cor-
responding recognition of the existence of visual, auditory, and
motor speech types, gives a strong presumption that the distinction
between sensory and motor in the voluntary movements of speech
and writing applies as well to voluntary movements of all kinds; that
is, to all movements which have been learned by attention and
effort. This means that a man is an 'auditive,' or a 'visual,' or a
'motor' in his voluntary movements generally. His attention is
trained by habit, education, etc., more upon one class of images
than upon others, his mind fills up more easily with images of this
class, and his mental processes and voluntary reactions proceed by
preference along these channels of easiest function.

"If this be true, it is evident that a man's reaction-time will
show the influence of his memory type. The motor-reaction we
should expect to be most abbreviated in the man of the motor type;
and less abbreviated, or not so at all, in the 'visual' or 'auditory'
man. And experimental results must perforce show extraordinary
variations as long as these typical varieties are not taken account of.
We are accordingly, I think, a long way off from any such exact
statement of absolute difference between sensory and motor reaction-
time as Wundt makes in his last edition."2

It was a sense of the great naturalness and probability
of this hypothesis that led me early in the fall of 1892 to
institute the experiments on ' visual ' and « kinaesthetic '
motor reactions whose results are given above in this paper.*

The secure establishing of cases which show sensory re-
actions shorter than motor (i. e., the cases now reported by
Cattell, Flournoy and myself), together with the probable

1 Article entitled " Internal Speech and Song," Phil. Rev., July, 1893.

* Physiologische Psychologic, 3d ed., II., p. 261 ff.

8 At the Philadelphia meeting of the American Psychological Association, on Dec.
28, 1892, I proposed the hypothesis informally to several American psychologists.
Dr. Lightner Witmer will remember a conversation in which the point was remarked
upon. I venture to make these personal explanations since a somewhat similar expla-
nation of his cases was advanced by Prof. Flournoy, of Geneva, in the articles cited
above. I was not acquainted with Prof. Flournoy's views until, a year later at the
New York meeting of the Association, Prof. Cattell brought them to my attention, as
given in abstracts in the Revue Philosophique and the Zeit. fur Psych. I return to
Flournoy's position later on in this paper.

268 J. MARK BALD WIN.

distinction between the « visual ' and ' kinassthetic ' forms of
motor time, make it advisable that this hypothesis should be
put in clearer evidence. I shall therefore proceed to state
the case for it briefly on the basis of the facts as they are
now known.

The doctrine of ' types ' rests upon certain facts which
may be briefly summed up. A voluntary motor perform-
ance— say speech — depends in each particular exercise of it,
upon the possibility of getting clearly in mind (inttrieur,
inner lick] some mental picture, image, presentation, which has
come to stand for or represent the particular movements
involved. This mental ' cue ' or representative may belong
to either of two great classes : it may be a * sensory ' cue or
a ' motor ' cue. People are of the sensory type or of the
motor type for speech according as their cue in speech is
sensory or motor; that is, according as in speaking they
think of the sounds of the words as heard, the look of the
words as written, etc. — the cues furnished by the special
senses associated habitually with speech — this on the one
hand ; or according as, on the other hand, they think of or
have in mind the movements of the vocal organs, lips,
tongue, etc., involved in speech. In the 'motor' people
there are incipient movements in mind ; in the ' sensory ' peo-
ple there are special sense images in mind. All this is now
so clear from the pathological cases examined that the
theory of localization of brain areas and their connections is
applied to the successful exploration of damages of the brain
when aphasic symptoms furnish the main diagnostic resource.

Now, let us see how in these cases of aphasia the two
principles spoken of are applied. Suppose we agree with
the neurologists in saying that the function of the ' cue '-
the mental image, be it either motor or sensory, which when
thought of enables a man to speak — is to release energy from
its own brain-seat, along association fibres or pathways, to
the motor-seat which sends its discharges out to bring
about the movement. Then the difference between sensory
and motor people is simply that different centres — different
4 cue '-seats — have these connections with the motor speech
centres best or better developed. A man who speaks best

STUDIES FROM THE PRINCETON LA BORA TOR Y. 269

when he thinks of the sounds of the words has his best
' cue '-seat in the auditory centre ; and his best pathway to
the speech motor-centre goes out from this 'cue '-seat.
For the man who speaks best when he thinks of the utter-
ance of words, the same may be said of the muscle-sense seat.

So it is evident — apart quite from the question as to how
one or other state of things comes to be as it is in any one
case — that with one man attention is directed to the move-
ment for the best results, with another to the sensation or
special memory image in best association with the move-
ment. With the former the thought of the movement begins
the movement. But with the other, if the best doing of the
movement comes from thinking of a sensation or special
image, then the movement will be relatively deranged, embar-
rassed, when the attention is drawn from this sensation and
forced to fix itself upon the movement itself. These, then,
are the two principles we desiderate, and they are both natu-
ral parts of the 'type' theory.

So why not generalize this ? Speech cannot be con-
sidered an exceptional function in its rise and mechanism.
Other complex motor functions show the same kinds or types
of execution : handwriting, music performing, etc.1 The hand
has, next to the tongue possibly, the most delicate, varied
and differentiated functions to perform ; and the laws of asso-
ciation by which sensory cues, checks, controls, are affixed
to hand actions and combinations, must be the same as those
involved in speech. So in simple hand movements people
must show the sensory and motor types. This is my hy-
pothesis.

The man, therefore, who gives relatively shorter motor
reactions is a « motor ' in his type ; with him the thought of
movement is the most facile beginning of the movement,
just because it is really the movement, and nothing else, that
he thinks of. That is his Anlage. But the man who gives
relatively shorter sensory (auditory, visual) reactions, is a
* sensory ' in his type : with him the attempt to think of the

1 See my Mental Development : Methods and Processes, pp. 91 ff., and 438 ff.
In Chap. XIV. of that work, on ' The Mechanism of Revival,' I have endeavored to
put in evidence the general principles which underlie the type theory.

270

. MARK BALDWIN.

movement as a movement interferes with the prompt and
exact execution of it, just because he is not accustomed to
execute his movements in that way. That is his Anlage.
But, of course, the two sorts of people have equal claim to
recognition in science. Suppose a dead aphasic brought for
autopsy to a surgeon, who inquires into the life-history of
the man, and finding that he was of the sensory type, then
declares that the body is not fit for a scientific autopsy, be-
cause the man did not have the proper type of aphasia! As
a matter of fact, so near are the disciples of Wundt to the
explanation by types that it is only necessary to translate
their word A nlage by 'type,' and then apply the connota-
tions of that term in the examination of refractory cases, to
bring them into line. I may accordingly sum up in the
words of my earlier article (Philos. Rev., II, 395):

"We have in this fact of types the explanation of the contradic-
tory results reached by different investigators in the matter of motor
reactions. Some find motor reactions shorter, as I have said above;
others do not. The reason is, probably, that in some subjects the
'sensory' type is so pronounced that the attention cannot be held
on the muscular reaction without giving confusion and an abortive
result. On the other hand, some persons are so clearly ' motor ' in
ordinary life, that sensory reaction is in like manner artificial, and
its time correspondingly long. And yet again others may be neu-
tral as regards sensor or motor preferences. If this be true, an-
other element of * abounding uncertainty ' is introduced into all the
results of experiments so far performed in this field, as reflection on
the matter will show."

One or two further points, however, may be made which
give the correct interpretation more importance than the
simple facts in themselves really have. . In the first place,
an additional tendency seems to show itself when move-
ments become very habitual — a tendency recognized in all
discussions of the principle of habit. Habitual perform-
ances tend to become independent of consciousness, atten-
tion, thought, altogether. This tendency should make itself
evident in reaction-time work, and reagents of great practise
should show, (i) diminishing time in all reactions, and (2)
diminishing difference between the two kinds of times, sen-
sory and muscular. Further, the same tendency should
.show itself in a diminishing difference 'between Individuals

STUDIES FROM THE PRINCETON LABORATORY. 2JI

of different types as they both get more practise. All these
results are, I think, clearly shown in those of the earlier re-
searches in which the amount of practise is reported.1

And, again, finer distinctions of type follow from the
general theory : such distinctions as those clearly established
for speech. The ' visual,' < auditory,' and possibly (as in the
blind) ' touch ' types of speech are all included under the
head of sensory. As I have said, the speech case is a case
of finer reaction-time distinctions. And the hand, as used
in most reaction experiments, ought to show to a greater or
less degree similar distinctions.2 The cases so far discov-
ered of relatively shorter sensory reactions seem to be, as
far as reported, auditory (musicians) and visual (Flournoy's).
To determine between * visual ' and « auditory ' times for any
individual, of course the same set of reaction experiments
should be made with the two classes of stimulations, each
being compared with the muscular reactions to the same
stimulus respectively.

The general result follows (if this hypothesis get accept-
ance) that the reaction-time experiment becomes of use
mainly as & method. Distinctions supposed to be established
once for all by various researches must be considered as
largely individual results, inasmuch as the authors have not
reported on the type of the reagent. But for that very rea-
son these results may have great value, as themselves indi-
cating in each case this very thing, the type of one single
reagent, and in so far some of the general characteristics of
that type. What we now desiderate in a great many de-
partments, as, for example, in the treatment of school chil-
dren, and in the diagnosis of complex mental troubles, is
just some method of discovering the type of the individual

1 Consequently it does not do to say, with Wundt and Klilpe, that the * muscu-
lar ' reaction is more automatic. Of course it is so in those who give a shorter motor
reaction — that is sufficient proof of it. But that the sensory time is shorter in others
is sufficient proof, also, that in their case the sensory reaction is more automatic .
Klilpe's two-arm reaction experiment is subject to this criticism, among others (see
Wundt, /of. cit., p. 325 ; KUlpe's Grundriss, pp. 422 f.).

8 A possible instance of such variation is seen in the case of Bonders, which
Wundt has difficulty with (Phys. Psych., III8., II., p. 268). Say the reagent was
* visual ' in his type, and we have reason for his shorter reactionto light than to sound,
while he still falls under the sensory type in general.

2 72 J. MARK BALD WIN.

in hand. If reactions vary in certain great ways, according
to the types which they illustrate, then in reaction experi-
mentation we have a great objective method of study. But
before the method can be called in any way complete, there
should be a detailed re-investigation of the whole question,
with a view to the great distinctions of mental type already
made out by the pathologists.1

A word should be added concerning the position of Pro-
fessor Flournoy. The hypothesis which I have advanced
has been attributed also to Flournoy, his name being con-
nected with mine as independent advocates of it (by Cattell,,
Titchener, etc.). I think this is a mistake, at least so far as the
publications of Professor Flournoy are taken as evidence. His
case, cited as of the ' type visuel,' seems to imply the exist-
ence of other types it is true ; and at the close of his second
article he raises the question, "si la fac,on de reagir ob-
serv6e chez M. Y., n'est qu'une singularite individuelle, ou
si elle est un fait general et constant dans le type visuel d'im-
agination." But what he means in the context by ' type
visuel ' is not what is meant by that phrase in the general-
ized usage of the pathologists. His case is * visual ' in the
sense that the man thinks of movements by a visual picture
of his arm, rather than by muscle-sense images (just what I
have distinguished above as * visual motor ' in distinction
from « kinaesthetic motor;' and the case is a fine confirmation
of the conclusions given above under that head). But it
does not follow that the man is a 'visual' in the broader
sense. He might just as likely be an 'auditive.' The
most that can be said of Flournoy's case, on the general
doctrine of types — other evidence aside — is that he is « sen-
sory,' and on my theory his shorter sensory reaction-time
proves it. But Flournoy makes no such general application
of the theory of types. Indeed, in asking the question
which I have quoted from him (i. e., whether all visuals
would react as this man did), he shows that he does not mean

*I have earlier indicated (Med. Record, loc. cit., and P kilos. Rev., loc. «'/.), the
possible use of this method by brain surgeons, an idea which Wallaschek comments oa
with approval. Certain general indications from reaction-times are already recognized
by physicians, especially in investigating various anaesthesias.

STUDIES FROM THE PRINCETON LABORATORY. 273

to bring reactions generally under the type theory. For the
real ' visual ' might give a shorter « visual motor ' than « sen-
sory ' time — i. e., when the stimulus reacted to is other than
visual (say auditory) ; since then the visualizing habit would
throw its influence on the side of the motor reaction.

In the matter of the distinction between « visual motor'
and ' kinassthetic motor' reactions, however, Flournoy's
case clearly anticipated mine in print.1

V. SENSATIONS OF ROTATION.

BY H. C. WARREN.

The following experiments were undertaken in connec-
tion with some other series, with a view to determining the
manner in which conflicting data from different senses are
harmonized. As they have, in addition to this, a special
bearing on the sense of rotation, it seems best to give their
results separately. The particular object of this investiga-
tion was to determine the relative influence of sight and the
internal sense of rotation on the subjective estimate of move-
ment. Messrs. W. J. Shaw and G. A. Tawney kindly acted
as subjects during the entire series, which consisted of
sittings about 20 minutes long, twice a week, extending over
a period of four months in the early part of the year 1894.

The experiments were conducted in a dark room, 8x8 ft.
The subject lay at full length on his back on a rotation-board,
with the head somewhat raised and eyes so screened as to
permit of his seeing only a small area of wall in front. At
the foot of the board, and covering entirely his restricted
field of vision, was a large screen with an aperture eight
inches square, behind which a mirror could be hung. On
two opposite walls of the room were hung strips of white
paper, an inch wide, reaching nearly from ceiling to floor,
and placed about a foot apart, which could be seen plainly in
a very faint light, when no other outlines or shadows were

1 Since revising the proofs of this article I have received a note from M. Flour-
noy in which he says: "Je suis, d'une fa9©n generate, d'accord avec vous sur
1'influence du type d'imagination " (making reference to my article in the Medical
Record}.

274 H- c- WARREN.

distinguishable on the screen or wall. When the subject
closed his eyes, or the board was turned so that no strips
were visible, the usual phenomena of rotary sensation were
observed; the least discernible movement was i° a second;
a movement greater than this, if continued, gradually ceased
to be noticeable, and any change in the rate was then inter-
preted as a new movement starting from a state of rest.
But when the subject, believing himself to be at rest, was
turned so that the strips came into view, a conflict arose
between the internal sense and the visual sense, which had
to be reconciled by some mode of interpreting the data.
The experiments included trials both with and without the
mirror, the subject never knowing whether the mirror was
in or not.1

(i) With the minimum light by which the strips were
discernible, the sense of sight played no role whatever in the
judgment, the strips appearing sometimes to flit across the
field of vision, and sometimes to move with the subject,
according to the data furnished by the internal sense.
(2) With an illumination ranging from one to six candles,
visual impressions strengthened the internal sense of move-
ment when they agreed, or tended to inhibit it when the
conflict was not too great. Thus, with the mirror removed,
the sight of the strips made even the slightest movement
perceptible, and checked the sensation of reversed move-
ment which occurs after a real movement ceases. With the
mirror in, the least perceptible movement was between
i° and 2° per second. Movements greater than this were
usually interpreted (when the strips were visible) as lateral
movements of progression in the direction in which the head was
actually moving. A sudden stop converted this into a judg-
ment of rotation in the opposite direction. Sometimes, how-
ever, especially with very rapid movements, they were

1 One of the subjects (T.) did not know of the mirror at all until the series was
nearly completed. S. generally could not tell whether it was in or not ; I questioned
him at the end of each sitting, and found that, as a matter of fact, he never considered
it in making his judgments, being too busy observing and reporting. T. was more
inclined to dizziness than S., and his experiences were consequently less distinct and
his answers less uniform. In general the two subjects agreed. I also confirmed a
number of the results here given by experiments on myself.

S TV DIE S FROM THE PRINCE TON LA BORA TOR Y. 2?$

interpreted as rotary, and the strips were declared to be
moving also, but faster than the subject. (3) With a bright
gas jet burning, the corners of the walls and many other out-
lines were plainly visible, and gave more general indications
of a stable environment than the strips afforded. The judg-
ment of progressive movement now occurred uniformly, except
when the board was started with a sudden jar; the subject
was unable to rid himself of the illusion ; he would seem to
be moving steadily sideways, even though he knew the im-
possibility of doing so in a small room. The writer con-
firmed these results personally. (4) In the final series the
subject sat upright at the center of the board, with his head
slightly in front of the center of rotation. In this position
the interpretation of the movement as progressive is im-
possible, if the internal sensations in the head are regarded ;
and as a matter of fact no such judgment was given. Care-
ful and repeated measurement by the metronome gave the
following results, with the mirror in and a very strong light
(two gas-jets): (a] Movements of less than 2° per second
were judged to be objective merely, (b) Movements of 2°-
5° per second were interpreted as subjective, but in the
reverse direction from that in which they were actually
occurring; i. e., they were felt as movements, but their
direction was determined not by the internal sense, but by
sight, and they were thought to be in the opposite direction
on account of the mirror, (c) Movements greater than 5° per
second were interpreted correctly, with the remark that the
wall was moving also in the same direction as the feet, and
faster. The transition from (b) to (c) was very distinct;
several times the speed was varied during the trial from
greater to less than 5°, or vice versa, and each time there
was an immediate change of judgment as to the direction of
the movement. A single ' trial' in this case was always
limited to 10 sec., in order to avoid the feeling of 'slowing
up' which accompanies uniform movement.

Aside from the last-mentioned phenomenon, which be-
longs more properly to the general subject of conflict among
sense impressions, the most noteworthy result was the trans-
formation of rotary into progressive movement, by means of

276 H. C. WARREN.

visual data. Suppose the actual movement to be clock- wise.
The head moves to the left, the feet to the right, and the
strips and wall reflected beyond the feet are carried much
faster to the right. But only the difference between the
rate of the feet and the rate of the back-ground is taken into
account; the back-ground is considered stationary, and the
movement is interpreted as a movement of the subject bodily
to the left. We may infer from this that the end-organ of
the internal sense of rotation is in the head alone, since
movements of the lower extremities are open to such absolute
misjudgment. We are also led to the conclusion that
the organ for the sense of rotation is the same as that for
progressive movement. This is directly contrary to the con-
clusion reached by Delage, who denies that the sense-organ
for progressive movement is in the head, while admitting it
for rotary movement.1 These results, moreover, seem to
favor the view that the semi-circular canals constitute that
organ, in spite of the objections recently raised by Ayers
and others on morphological grounds.2 A special sense-
organ seems requisite for such a sense, and the above results
tend to locate that organ in the head. In our experiments
the sense of sight was made to furnish data of movement
independent of the internal sense. In the head the latte]
sense was so strong that, within the given limits of visual
field and luminosity, a conflict between the two senses in-
variably resulted in its favor, and any movement observed
merely visually was attributed to the objects in the environ-
ment. Yet when the lower extremities were moving quite
rapidly in one direction they were constantly declared to be
moving in the other, on the testimony of visual data. The
'internal sense' of movement must therefore be due to
something other than the general indication furnished by the
vaso-motor system, which would affect all parts of the body
alike.

1 Physiologische Studien Uber die Orientirung, von Delage ; deutsch von H.
Aubert; pp. 94-95.

a Journal of Morphol. 1892, VI, pp. 237-256.

SHORTER CONTRIBUTIONS.

THE ^HAUNTED SWING' ILLUSION.

BY R. W. WOOD.

I was much interested this summer in the curious sensa-
tions produced by a purely optical illusion, known as the
'Haunted Swing,' at the Midwinter Fair in San Francisco.
On entering the building we found ourselves in a spacious
cubical room, furnished with a sofa, table, chairs, etc., a
massive iron safe, and a piano, together with other minor
articles. But the most conspicuous object was the huge
swing, capable of holding forty or more persons, which hung
in the centre, suspended from an iron cylinder which passed
through the centre of the room. We took our seats and the
swing was put in motion, the arc gradually increasing in
amplitude until each oscillation carried us apparently into
the upper corners of the room. Each vibration of the swing
caused those peculiar ' empty ' sensations within which one
feels in an elevator; and as we rushed backwards toward the
top of the room there was a distinct feeling of ' leaning for-
ward,' if I can so describe it — such as one always experi-
ences in a backward swing, and an involuntary clutching at
the seats to keep from being pitched out. We were then
told to hold on tightly as the swing was going clear over, and,
sure enough, so it did, though the illusion was not so per-
fect as the high oscillations.

The device was worked in the following way : The swing
proper was practically at rest, merely being joggled a trifle,
while the room itself was put in motion, the furniture being
fastened down to the floor, so that it could be turned com-
pletely over. The illusion was good, though the absence of
centrifugal force, and the fact that the swing did not move
with uniform acceleration as it descended, would indicate to
a careful observer that he was not swinging freely. The
curious and interesting feature however, was, that even
though the action was fully understood, as it was in my case,
it was impossible to quench the sensations of 'goneness
within ' with each apparent rush of the swing. The minute
the eyes were shut the sensations vanished instantly. Many
persons were actually made sick by the illusion. I have met

277

2?8 THE PSYCHOLOGICAL REVIEW.

a number of gentlemen who said they could scarcely walk
out of the building from dizziness and nausea. I myself ex-
perienced no sensations of dizziness, being accustomed to
heights and to rapid motion ; but the sensation before de-
scribed was always present (and I visited the place several
times), though I tried to suppress it and reason against it.

HEAT SENSATIONS IN THE TEETH.

BY HENRY RUTGERS MARSHALL.

In the course of a late operation upon one of my teeth I
experienced a very powerful and distinct sensation of heat
whenever the dental instrument touched a very thin layer
of the tooth substance (dentine) which still remained protect-
ing the ' pulp ' from exposure.

The well-known Dr. Frank Abbott, who operated upon
my tooth, and whose long and wide experience enables him
to speak with authority, assures me that this sensation of
heat is entirely independent of the temperature of the instru-
ment employed: that in his experience he finds that any
mechanical irritation of the dentinal fibers, when inflamed,
will produce this sensation of burning, it being especially
marked when the fibres are dragged asunder by the revolv-
ing instruments often used. The same heat sensation is
produced, he tells me, by the rapid absorption of moisture
produced by placing against this highly sensitive tissue a
bit of ' spunk' or < bulbulous paper,' or other rapid-absorbing
substance. The substance called ' spunk,' which he uses for
this purpose, is supposed to be nothing more than a tree
fungus of especially fine fibrous nature.

It is apparent that we have here a production of heat
sensations by stimulations which do not correspond in any
evident way with the stimulations that produce heat in the
'heat spots' on the surface of the skin. I think it well
to make note of these particular dental experiences in order
that those who may be investigating the nature of the pro-
cesses involved in the production of our sensations of heat and
cold may upon occasion verify them, and may coordinate
them with the more familiar means of heat production in the
formulation of their theories.

DISCUSSION.
RECENT DEVELOPMENTS IN THEORY OF EMOTION.

Considerable interest attaches to the recent articles on Emotion
by Professors Baldwin and Dewey. Both these writers are in favor
of the James theory, but each has arrived at his results in his own
way, and has his own view with regard to the weak points of the
original statement of the theory and the value of the emendations
that have recently been made. I do not propose, however, to deal
with all the points of interest here involved. I shall merely discuss
briefly the main arguments brought forward.

Professor Dewey contends that "all so-called expressions of
emotion are in reality the reduction of movements and stimulations
originally useful into attitudes" (Psv. REV., I, 6, 569). They are
explicable by reference to useful acts, and therefore cannot be de-
duced from an antecedent emotion. Now, the term ' expression of
emotion ' is ambiguous, not only in denotation, but also in connota-
tion. Few would assert that the bodily changes usually signified by
this mode of speech are primarily intended to show that a cer-
tain individual has a particular emotion. The majority of psycholo-
gists would agree that the movements in question are in the main
ideologically conditioned. The question is, whether you can con-
clude from this that they cannot be regarded as the outcome of
some antecedent emotion. Professor Dewey's argument depends
on the assumption that no useful action can be explained by refer-
ence to emotion. But surely the natural supposition is that so
prominent a fact of consciousness has some function, and therefore
directly or indirectly influences our actions. Professor Dewey himself
says that "hope, fear, delight, sorrow, terror, love are too im-
portant and too relevant in pur lives ttrbe in the main the 'feel* of
bodily attitudes which have themselves no meaning" (Psv. REV., I,
6> 563). It is hard to see how these can be important or relevant
in our lives, if it is enough to dissociate an action from them to show
that it has a purpose or end. I do not assert that all the bodily
changes, internal and external, are the result of emotion. My con-
tention is that it does not follow, merely because movements are

279

280 DISCUSSION.

purposive, that they have no connection with emotion ; and, fur-
ther, that it would be a strange thing if this conclusion were correct.

We must now consider how far the detailed account of the bodily
changes supports the ' effect ' theory. A distinction is drawn, im-
plicitly at all events, between the internal organic disturbance and
those outward movements which are actions in the true sense, since
they are directed towards some end. With regard to the latter, no
explanation is given. All that is done is to show that they are
directly teleological. It is first assumed that emotion can have no
connection with useful actions, and then actions of this sort are
simply taken for granted. If, however, they cannot be deduced
from the emotion, it is legitimate to demand some account of their
origin. It cannot be too strongly emphasized that the so-called
' cause ' theory has an intelligible explanation to offer, while the
* effect ' theory is silent on the point. Further, as Professor Bald-
win brings out so clearly, it is not easy to see how any explanatioi
can be given, on the principles of the latter view, which will fit in1
a theory of development.

A complication is introduced by the fact that some of these
movements, such as the crouching of fear and the clenching of th(
fist in anger, are reflex. It is easy to understand, however, that
once these actions have been voluntarily performed under the influ-
ence of a certain emotion, they arise reflexly in circumstances simi-
lar to those with which they were first connected. The identity of
circumstance redintegrates the old movements, and so emotioi
and action appear simultaneously. In these cases, of course, the
bodily changes are not caused by the particular emotion which the]
accompany. On the other hand, these reflexes are not the only
' expressions ' of emotion. The original expression of anger, for
instance, was doubtless a blow. The clenching of the fist points to
restraining influences. But, though we do not now use crude physi-
cal measures exclusively, civilization does not leave us altogether
helpless. The covert sneer, the insulting stare, the cutting remark
are at our service. These and similar purposive actions require to
be accounted for. The natural thing is to regard them as the
effects of the emotion. There is an intelligible relation between
them and the psychical state. An individual possessed with hate of
some person will tell you that ' he feels as if he could ' — do him all
sort of injury. It is reasonable to suppose that this feeling condi-
tions the action of retaliation. When it is asserted that this pecu-
liar feeling towards the person only arrives after the action has
actually taken place, we are at liberty to entertain a doubt in the

DISCUSSION. 28l

matter. When we find that no explanation whatever is given of the
appearance of the action, our doubt will scarcely be diminished.

The organic changes, then, which are directly teleological, must
be regarded as falling into two classes, namely, reflexes and volun-
tary movements. As Professor Baldwin shows, the effect-theory
does not and cannot afford any explanation of the origin of the
former in the first instance. The latter can scarcely be said to be
taken into account at all, for the view is not worked out in detail.
Cases like fear are used as instances where the action is practically
the same under all circumstances, so that the reflex and the volun-
tary movements coincide.1

The internal organic changes remain, and Professor Dewey really
faces the question here by attempting to show how they can be
accounted for without reference to an antecedent emotion. They
result from "the effort of the organism to adjust its formed habits
or coordinations of the past to present necessities as made known in
perception or idea. The emotion is psychologically the adjustment
or tension of habit and ideal, and the organic changes are the literal
working out in concrete terms of the struggle of adjustment " (Psv.
REV., II, i, p. 30). The habitual reaction does not harmonize with
the mode of action which the present circumstances seem to demand.
Hence there is a conflict, and, as a result of this, disturbances of
visceral and associated organs, "which is just what we might expect
when there is a great stirring up of energy preparatory to activity,
but no defined channel of discharge" (Psv. REV., I, 6, 565). It is
not easy to understand why the habitual reaction should assert itself
so strongly in circumstances where it is obviously so much out of
place, and insist on being ' coordinated ' with the new mode of be-
havior. Nor is it obvious how emotion can be the ' tension of habit
and ideal,' prior to action, when it is first constituted after the action
has taken place (II. i. pp. 18, 22). Leaving these points undis-
cussed, let us ascertain the results which follow from the explana-
tion of the internal organic agitation here given. In the first place,
the course taken by the deflected energy would seem to be mechani-
cally determined as Professor James suggests (Principles of Psycholo-
gy, II., p. 482). It will be dependent" on the individual organism
and its state at the moment. Professor Dewey is quick to see the
effect of this. "If the bodily attitude is wholly accidental, then
the emotion itself is brute and insignificant, upon a theory which

1 In this connection one might safely venture the assertion that the theory under
discussion would not seem so convincing if it were applied all round, instead of being
•stated generally, and merely illustrated by one or two favorable instances.

282 D. IKONS.

holds that emotion is the 'feel' of such an attitude" (I, 6, p. 563).
He finds it ' more or less intolerable ' that any idiopathic effects
should be l purely mechanical outpourings through the easiest avail-
able channel,' and maintains that the easiest path is determined by
habits which, upon the whole, were evolved as useful (I, 6, p. 563).
It would be very difficult, however, to prove that the bodily excite-'
ment could ever have been useful ; and until such proof is offered,
the ' intolerable ' supposition of Professor James must be regarded
as the more probable.

In the second place, under whatever circumstances the energy is
aroused, the same amount spreading through the same organism at
the same time will have the same effects. There is simply so much
energy which is under a mechanical necessity to find an outlet.
That the special occasion has no influence in determining the actual
channels of discharge is rendered more obvious when we remember
that the whole process is necessary just because action, appropriate
to the particular case, has been inhibited. In every emotional state
of the same intensity, therefore, the physical agitation will be prac-
tically the same ; and this is a result more than serious to those who-
assert that the bodily changes cause the emotion. When the alleged
causes are so much alike, why should the psychical effects be so^
widely different ?

I do not criticise Professor Dewey for attempting to account for
the internal organic disturbance without reference to emotion. It
seems to me that he has shown that the phenomenon in question can-
not be regarded as an effect of the emotion ; and, further, that he
has indicated the right principle * by which its origin is to be under-
stood. My point is that the consequences have been shown to be
disastrous to the theory he has adopted. For instance, one of the
great difficulties which has to be met is that the bodily changes do
not vary sufficiently in the case of different emotions, while they
vary too much in different instances of the same emotion. The ob-
jection on this score was formerly made on the ground of empirical
observation. Now, we can not only urge that the fact is so, but
give a reason why, in the nature of things, it should be as it is. The
escape of deflected energy is the cause of the internal effects, and
these form the greater part of the whole mass of bodily change.
Since the process is under mechanical law, the effects vary with the
state of the organism ; and this accounts for the fact that the same

1 The principle must be worked out more fully, however, and freed from irrelevant
additions. In all probability, too, it will be found necessary to supplement it to some
extent by others.

DISC U SSI ON. 283

emotion may at different times have different physical accompani-
ments. Further, under any outward circumstances a given amount
of energy will always produce the same results if the inward phys-
ical conditions remain unaltered ; and this explains why, in all states
of equal intensity, the organic changes are substantially the same.

On the other hand, it seems possible for opponents of the effect-
theory to state their views, so as to include and harmonize all the
facts. You cannot proceed on the assumption that emotion must
be either the cause or the effect of the physical changes. In the first
place, the term 'physical change' is wide and vague. It covers move-
ments, purposively reflex, voluntary, and mechanically determined. In
the second place, the antithesis is false, for there is a third possibility,
namely, that the psychical and physical aspects are independent of
each other and yet concomitant. It is possible to hold, therefore,
that some of the bodily changes are effects of the emotion, that
others are independent of it, and that the emotion is in turn inde-
pendent of the latter. When danger threatens, for example, it is
possible to imagine that the perception is followed at once by fear
and an arousal of energy, while certain actions or tendencies to
action are called forth by association. All these arise simulta-
neously. We have at once the emotion of fear, the excitation of
energy, and the tendency to crouch or run away. In the case of the
first emotion of the kind, the third effect would not be present as a
direct consequence of the cognition. The psychical state is a feel-
ing with reference to the impending event prompting us to action of
a certain kind with regard to it. The energy excited renders it
possible for this action to be carried out with speed and vigor. If
flight is out of the question, the energy diffuses itself through the
organism and produces the violent organic paroxysm of intense ter-
ror. If the danger can be avoided and the means are suggested,
the energy is used up for the most part in carrying out the neces-
sary movements. Still a certain quantity always discharges itself
through the body, for more energy is aroused than is absolutely
necessary, and in most instances an interval must elapse before
means can be found and the action put in train. Even though the
purposive action is not inhibited, therefore, a certain degree of
physical agitation is always present. I have purposely taken one of
the cases which is most favorable to the effect-theory. The organic
perturbation is not nearly so marked when, as in hate for instance,
immediate and decisive action is not so vitally essential. The emo-
tion may be as strong, however, for the physical changes vary in
strength and prominence, not with the psychical concomitant, but

284 D-

with the practical demands of the situation. Further, it is only in
an instance, as simple as the one I have chosen, that it can be main-
tained with any show of plausibility that reflex action accounts for
all the movements involved. In more complicated cases more com-
plicated actions are necessary, and it is not so easy to exclude from
consideration the influence of the purely psychical aspect of the con-
crete emotional state.

I can only refer to Professor Baldwin's interesting paper in so far
as it bears on the special point now under discussion. This writer
argues that "though habit means subsiding consciousness, it is just
those ' expressive ' reactions which are most instinctive, that carry
with them most of the vivid and disturbed consciousness we call
emotion" (Psv. REV., I, 6, 612). Hence he concludes that the
consciousness in question cannot arise until the instinctive reactions
are reported back from the periphery. This view is open to criti-
cism on many points, but I merely wish to point out that, thanks
to Professor Dewey, it can be attacked on a question of fact. The
argument depends on the assumption that all * expressive reactions '
are instinctive. Some are undoubtedly, but the greater number of
them are caused by the deflection of energy or the spreading of
excess energy through the body. They are not instinctive at all,
but simply ' mechanical outpouring through the easiest drainage
channels.'

We find, therefore, that nothing has been adduced on the basis
of which it can be denied that emotion has a function of some kind,
and causes some of the bodily movements which enter into the com-
plete emotional state. The voluntary actions which seem to follow
naturally from the peculiar psychical attitude are either left out of
account altogether, or confounded with the instinctive reactions,
which are themselves simply taken for granted. The explanation of
the internal organic disturbance is in principle sound. It involves
consequences, however, which are fatal to the effect-theory, and
incidentally it destroys the special argument on the strength of
which Professor Baldwin is induced to give a qualified assent to Pro-
fessor James' main contention. On the other hand, opponents can
accept it gratefully, and take account of it in framing their own
theories. DAVID IRONS.

CORNELL UNIVERSITY.

DISCUSSION. 285

A REPLY.

If it is not contrary to editorial rules, I hope I may be allowed to
protest against the unfair and dogmatic verdict which Professor G.
S. Fullerton passes on the concluding section of my Aristotelian
Address, 'The Conception of Infinity,' reviewed by him in the Janu-
ary number of this journal (Vol. II, Part I, p. 99), inasmuch as it is
founded on a confusion of ideas which he attributes to me, though it
is really due only to himself. The first part of his article is appre-
ciative and generous, and for that I thank him. But when he comes
to the sixth and last section of my address, which he calls my con-
clusion, he says that I reach it only by 'blowing both hot and cold
in my premises,' which, supported as it is by a page of very plausible
(though of course unintentional) misstatements, is an intolerable
charge.

In three several cases on that page (99) he confuses distinctions
which I clearly make and adhere to. He confuses :

ist — Between my 'material world' and my 'universe.'

2nd — Between my 'material element in consciousness' and my
'matter' or 'material world.'

3rd — Between my 'perceptually known' and my 'positively
known.'

Now, in my argument, time and space are never perceived or
represented in thought without some kind of 'material element in
consciousness,' and in this sense the 'material element' shares their
infinity ; the 'formal' and 'material' elements together being indis-
pensable constituents of anything thought of as existing (even when
it is a void that is thought of), and therefore of the infinite universe.

An infinite void when thought of as existing, either in time or
space, is a void only in the sense of being empty of physical matter,
and I have given some reasons in my address for thinking that the
world of physical matter is finite, being bounded by a void in this
sense, both in time and space.

When we know any specific content (under which term physical
matter is included) existing in time, or in time and space together,
that is what I call having a 'positive knowledge' of it. But though
we have no such positive knowledge of anything beyond the limits
of the world of physical matter, we may yet have a 'perceptual
knowledge' of time and space beyond them, namely, a representa-
tion of them as filled with some ' material element in consciousness; '
this element being an indispensable condition of them as existing,
although it is not specifically known to us.

286

NOTICE.

The inseparability of 'formal' from the 'material' element in
consciousness compels us to think of the universe as infinite, so soon
as we recognize that one of these elements is infinite, and cannot be
thought of as being otherwise ; unless we assume dogmatically that
only that really exists which man has specific sense-faculties to per-
ceive. It is this dogmatic assumption which really ' shuts us up to
the world of matter.'

This argument of mine may or may not commend itself as con-
clusive ; but at least it cannot be charged with attaching varying
and inconsistent meanings to the premises employed, which is the
charge made in the words I have quoted from Professor Fullerton,
and made in the most peremptory fashion.1

LONDON. SHADWORTH H. HODGSON.

A NOTICE.

Dr. Herbert Nichols, formerly assistant of the Harvard Psycho-
' logical Laboratory, publishes in the last number of the Philosophical
Review a most violent attack on that laboratory under the title
'The Motor Power of Ideas.' His scientific motives, to which I
must confine myself here, are based on such an absolute misunder-
standing of our paper and his discussion is so full of misstatements
that I consider it useless and hopeless to attempt to correct his mis-
takes and discuss his arguments. But there is one point which
troubles me. The paper which he refers to is published by Mr.
Campbell and myself. Those who read the kind words with which
Dr. Nichols praised my work a short time ago may not believe that
he can change his mind so suddenly, and some may suppose perha]
that the attack is directed especially against Mr. Campbell. Under
these circumstances I take it as my duty to free my young friend,
Mr. Campbell, publicly from all responsibility. Mr. Campbel
carried out the experiments most carefully, but the whole plan ol
work was laid out by me, and I myself wrote every line of th<
article. It is probably superfluous to add that I should have writtei
every line just as it now stands even if I had known Dr. Nichols'
called criticism beforehand. HUGO MUNSTERBERG.

HARVARD UNIVERSITY.

1 [A faither comment from Prof. Fullerton on Mr. Hodgson's positions wi
appear in the next number.— Eds.]

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE.

DEGENERATION AND GENIUS.

DJge'nere's et Desequibre's. J. DALLEMAGNE. Brussels, Lamertin ;
Paris, Alcan ; 1895. Large 8vo., pp. 658.

Dr. Dallemagne writes a very fluent colloquial style, well suited
to the lecture-room, for which his book was originally written, and
for this reason his pages, though immense, can be read quickly.
The work is so full of details that our notice can hardly do more than
recommend it to any reader who may be in search of a vue d* ensemble
of the psychopathic constitution, and who at the same time has a good
stomach for the great richness of the subject, and for the paren-
thetical sallys and sidepockets of reflection and description into
which our author will drag him remorselessly. M. Dallemagne's
reading has been enormous, and, so far as appears, exact ; and it
has in no way stifled his independence of judgment. His concep-
tion of the sphere of ' loss of balance ' in the mental system is wider
than that of Magnan, embracing Neurasthenia, Hysteria, and Epi-
lepsy, of all which conditions the accounts he gives are both full of
matter and up to date. Epilepsy, indeed, is the first subject treated
after Imbecility, which latter follows six preliminary chapters on the
psychological mechanism and on the notion and significance of the
•* degenerative ' type. The author allows that the conception of
degeneration is still in process of evolution towards exactitude. It
must indeed be admitted that causal and symptomatic notions min-
gle in it ; heredity is an added element which is neither cause nor
symptom ; and a placid myxoedematous cre'tin has superficially noth-
ing in common with a one-idea'd fanatic or other member of Mag-
nan's class of degendrts sujxfrteurs, except that both are * queer.' M.
Dallemagne has wrestled copiously with the problem, and perhaps
better than anyone has emphasized the notion of balance as the test
of mental health. Dissociation of the mental system, impulses so
strong that they bear all inner opposition down, aversions and appe-
tites at variance with the subject's beliefs, abrupt explosions inter-
ruptive of the consistency of his life, such are the traits of whole
groups of psychopathic persons. M. Dallemagne even tentatively
suggests a theory for such disequilibration. I find it very obscure,

287

288 DEGENERA TION AND GENIUS.

but it suggests to my mind something like this : The thalami and
corpora striata are 'subconscious* centres for habits, cravings and im-
pulses that are not so * saturated ' with experience as to have become
fatally automatic, like those in the cord. They normally act in coop-
eration with the fully conscious cortex and its associations of ideas.
But they may become the seat of irritable weakness, and the asso-
ciative cortical processes may be pathologically blocked or twisted
from what is normal. In such cases the poussfo from below is either
excessive or ill-timed, and it may also fall on wrong ideas and the
normally controlling ones be thrown out of gear. All sorts of obses-
sions, phobias, depravities of appetite, morbid impulses characteris-
tic of the discordant self, which we find in the so-called degenerates,,
maybe thus explained. In the 'inferior' class the cortex is most at
fault ; in the ' superiors ' it is the basal ganglia.

Entartung und Genie, Neue Studien. CESARE LOMBROSO, gesammelt
und unter Mitwirkung des Verfassers deutsch herausgegeben
von Hans Kurella. Leipzig, Wigand, 1894. 12°, pp. 308.

A collection of essays and fragments, not published as a volume
in Italian. The author first replies to some objections to his theory
that genius is a degenerative neurosis allied to epilepsy and moral
insanity. Dante, Michelangelo, and Guido had been thrown at
him as examples of men of genius who were normal. He proves
minutely their strongly eccentric and neurotic constitution. Dante
in particular must have been frankly epileptic, for no less than-
eleven times in the divine comedy he speaks of himself as swooning
or falling unconscious. That the weakness of genius cannot be due
to secondary strains and fatigues incidental to the ardent sort of life
which the possession of genius imposes, is proved by the fact that
out of 313 symptoms of fatigue which Lombroso has counted, only
six are commonly found among geniuses. Genius and sex is dis-
cussed in a chapter, full of anecdotes, on the conditions productive
of genius. In Chapter III. is shown the frequency of degenerative
anomalies in geniuses. For example, they vary from their national
type, as is proved by portraits. Longfellow, Bellamy, Tennyson,
Coleridge look like men of Latin race. Darwin and Bryant, Cole-
ridge and Burns, George Eliot and Bulwer form mutually resem-
bling pairs. "The cause of these resemblances is to be sought in
the degeneration common to them all." Prof. Lombroso has com-
pared the field of view of twelve geniuses of his acquaintance with
that of eight unusually gifted young men who were not geniuses,,
and has found a shrinkage of the inner upper quadrant in nine of

PS YCHOLOGICA L LI TERA TURE. 289

the geniuses — in none of them was the field symmetrical. The non-
geniuses were much more normal ; so that an abnormal field of
view seems to characterize genius. On the other hand, genius
would seem to have, if anything, a slower reaction-time than usual.
Amongst the bizarreries of genius, playing with orthography is men-
tioned, and a dog-latin letter of Swift to Stella is quoted. "One is
tempted," Lombroso remarks, "to find in this tendency to fabricate
a jargon, a trait connecting genius with criminality." The most
valuable part of the book is constituted by biographical details con-
cerning certain ' borderland ' cases, calculating geniuses, thought
readers, artists, and political and religious 'mattoids.' The author's
curiosity and information, frankness, good-humor and vivacity are
beyond praise, but his incapacity for accurate reasoning is appa-
rently incurable ; and this book, were it not for the biographic mate-
rial which it contains, could only be regarded as one of the oddities
of scientific literature.

Degeneration. MAX NORDAU. Translated from the second edition
of the German work. New York, Appleton, 1895. 8vo., pp. 560.
A pathological book on a pathological subject. If one were to
apply Herr Nordau's method to the description of his own person,
one could hardly help writing him down as a degenerate of the
worst sort. He is a ' graphomaniac'; a misanthrope and a ' miso-
neist'; a 'coprolalic* ('idiot,' 'imbecile' are his mildest terms of
endearment) ; an « erotomaniac ' of the prudish - sort, haunted by
horror of other people's sexuality; an obse'de', pursued without respite
by images of odious works of art ; a ' megalomaniac ' of the arro-
gant and insulting type ; and, finally, a victim of insane delusions
about a conspiracy of hysterics and degenerates menacing the moral
world with destruction unless the sound-minded speedily arm and
organize in its defence. Add to this equipment the earnestness of
the gloomily insane, and their complete inability to see a joke (pages
of heavy invective against Oscar Wilde's epigrams!) and one gets a
not altogether consoling diagnosis of Herr Nordau's case. On the
other side, it must be admitted that he is really learned, not only in
contemporary German, French and English belles lettres, but in the
literature of neurological medicine as well, and that many of the
objects by whose odiousness his imagination is afflicted, Parisian
'pornographic' novels, for example, are loathsome indeed. When,
however, hardly a contemporary name, however great, escapes his
abuse, and the course over which he runs-a-muck lies through Wag-
ner, Tolstoi, Ruskin, Burne-Jones, Rossetti, Zola, Ibsen, and Niet-

DE GENERA TION AND GENIUS. '

sche, as well as through Baudelaire and his descendants, it must be
admitted that his volumes are little more than a pathological 'docu-
ment' on an enormous scale, and an exhibition in minute detail of an
individual's temperamental restrictions in the way of enjoying art.

The only chapters that concern this REVIEW are those entitled
* the psychology of mysticism ' and l the psychology of egotism '
respectively. Mysticism and egotism are the great mental stigmata
of hereditary degeneration. Mysticism is, in brief, the tendency to
see in everything more than appears on the surface, and to suppose
mysterious significance in the plainest facts. Its condition, our
author says, is an inability of voluntary attention to confine the flow
of association. In the exhausted and aimless brain of a degenerate,
beyond the clear and immediate associates of an idea, there surges
up circle beyond circle of remote associates, pale and vague rever-
berations of distant ideas, which make all perceptions spectral and
all judgments uncertain. This is much like saying that in a healthy
mind thoughts should have no atmosphere, no overtones, no fringes
— an opinion to which few will subscribe. — Herr Nordau's explana-
tion of the egotism of degenerates is based on the observations of
Sollier and others upon imbeciles, and of Lombroso upon criminals,
showing obtuse sensibility of the skin and other perceptive organs.
Whilst the outer world thus comes to them and their congeners im-
perfectly, the inner world, on the contrary, fills them with its clam-
orous impulses and obsessions ; their enfeebled will cannot hold
the balance, the line (arbitrary at best) between the me and the
not-me is shifted, and the me fills the field of attention. This
theory, also, though it has its ingenuity, is one which psychologists
will hardly find completely satisfactory.

The translation, so far as I have examined it, reads fairly well.
But the publishers have made 560 very vast and ugly pages out of
the 1000 odd convenient pages of the two-volume original.

Genie und Entartung, cine psychologische Studie. WILLIAM HIRSCH.
Leipzig ; Coblentz, 1894. 8°, pp. 340.

It really reanimates one, after so much farce-comedy writing on
the subject of genius, to come upon a book based on psychological
analysis, logic, and common-sense. It would be well if all the ad-
mirers of Lombroso, Nisbet, and Nordau could be compelled to read
Dr. Hirsch's admirable study, of which every page is interesting
and acute. I can only quote general principles from it, leaving out
details. In the first place, the author remarks, ' genius ' is a socio-
logical, not a psychological concept. The class of persons popu-

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERAJ^URE. 29 1

larly recognized as geniuses — poets, musical composers, musical
executants, actors, painters, men of science, statesmen, soldiers,
and devotees — seem at first sight to have nothing in common except
rarity and originality. But originality itself is not a psychological
conception. An Englishman appears in France as ' an original';
and so does a Yankee in England. The oddity of lunatics, due to
recklessness and non-inhibition, has nothing inwardly in common
with the fertility in novel ideas that characterizes geniuses. "In
different fields [as the author shows by detailed discussion] we see
that the most diverse psychological elements constitute the man's
genius, and that qualities which in one case make its essence, are in
others actually incompatible with its activity. There are, therefore,
no definite psychological qualities common to all geniuses. One
would seek in vain identical features in Bismarck and Paganini, in
Mozart and Napoleon." Even within one type there are tremen-
dous differences, Goethe and Beethoven, for instance, having been
men of mood and inspiration ; Schiller and Mozart, men of continu-
ous activity independent of mood, working with will and critical
reflection. The mental elements are identical in the sane and the
insane, the difference between these classes of men being one of pro-
portion and mixture. With strong obsessions one needs a strong will
to keep sound, just as with a large body one needs large legs to
keep active. The excessive sensibility of a Goethe would have
made a psychopath of him, but for his extraordinary intellect and
self-control — with these additions it simply made him the mightier
pattern of mankind. The logic which, because it finds hallucinations
in crazy people, treats them thenceforward as an insane symptom,
even where no other insane symptom is present, begs the question.
Their existence in sane men should on the contrary be held to
prove that they are not necessarily a morbid symptom. The 'sim-
ple enumeration ' of geniuses with psychopathic traits, to prove the
essential psychopathy of all genius [apart from the fact that by the
same logic one could prove that being born on a Sunday, or having
brown eyes, was genius's essential condition], is carried out with no
pretence to exactitude. Rightly used, the statistical argument
ought to ascertain, first, the percentage of the mentally unsound in
a given population at a given moment, then the total number of
geniuses, and finally the number of mentally diseased geniuses, in
the same population at the same moment. If the percentage of dis-
ease were higher in the geniuses than in the population, the neurosis
theory of genius would receive presumptive support. It is needless
to say that such statistics are unattainable, nor are they attempted

2 92 DEGENERATION AND GENIUS.

by any of the advocates of the neurosis theory.1 The close of Dr.
Hirsch's book has much to say in re Nordau versus Wagner and
Ibsen. This critical matter calls for no reproduction here.

If the reviewer might now say a word of the result left on his
own mind by reading the genius-controversy, it would run something
like this : Moreau, Lombroso & Co. have done excellent service in
destroying the classic view of genius as something superhuman and
flawless. By their ferreting and prying and general devil's advo-
cacy, they have helped us to an acquaintance with human nature in
concrete, which from every point of view is superior to our old-fash-
ioned academic notions. Lombroso in particular has put us in his debt
by his studies of individual fanatics and ' mattoids.' But there the
service stops, for (except in Nordau's case) these authors are incapable
of logical or psychological analysis ; and the only conclusion that
their facts make more clear than ever — the conclusion, namely, that
there are no incompatibles in human nature, and that any random
combination of mental elements that can be conceived may also be
realized in some individual — is one that they do not draw. If we
are to make of genius a psychological conception at all, it must be
a property of intellect rather than of will or feeling. Narrowed in
this way, Prof. Bain's description of it, as an unusual tendency to
associate by similarity (a description with which none of our authors
seem acquainted), will stand firm. But it is one thing to have this
intellectual condition of genius and another to become effective in

1 The only attempt to use statistics methodically by advocates of the theory is in
Nisbet's comparison of the causes of death in genius and in the population at large
(see "The Insanity of Genius," 1893, p. 315). This author says: "I have dealt
specifically with some 250 men of genius. Selected upon no other ground than their
eminence, in the first instance, the total number of these are found to be neuropathic,
suffering from or dying of some description of nerve disorder." Mr. Nisbet then enu-
merates amongst the " chief constitutional or nerve diseases ": Phthisis, pneumonia,
apoplexy, heart disease, scrofula, rheumatism, syncope, diabetes, gout and stone, and
then tells us that the death-rate of the 'nerve diseases,' thus Pickwickianly under-
stood, to the entire death-rate of Great Britain in 1888, was as i to 3}, whilst " among
the men of genius enumerated it is at least three times greater." Ignoring the ridicu-
lousness of Mr. N.'s classification of nerve diseases, and assuming that all the 250
geniuses really did die of them, not the total population, but some part of the population
whose pursuits are intellectual, was the proper term of comparison. If Mr. Nisbet
had looked up the personal and family history of 250 occupants of offices in the city,
or of 250 active business men, and found less gout and apoplexy than in his geniuses,
it would have been a really interesting fact, for these are diseases of sedentary life as
such, and geniuses are on the whole of the sedentary class. Similarly before the
' family history ' of geniuses can be held to prove the neurosis theory, a comparison
must be made with the families of an equal number of business men, ' selected upon no
other ground ' say than their wealth. No such comparison has ever been attempted.

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 293

history as a genius, and to figure in biographical dictionaries. We
all know intellects of first-rate original quality whose names are
written in water because of the inferiority of the other elements of
their nature, their lack of remote ideals and unifying aims, of pas-
sion and of staying power. On the other hand we know moderate
intellects who become effective and even famous in the world's work
because of their force of character, their passionate interests and
doggedness of will. To do anything with one's genius requires pas-
sion ; to do much requires doggedness. Hence it comes that the
intense sensibility of the psychopathic temperament, when it adds
itself to a first-rate intellect, greatly increases the chances that the
latter will bear effective fruits. To be liable to obsession by ideas,
not to be able to rest till they are 'worked off,' ought then to be, as
they indeed are, traits of character often found amongst the men
whose names figure as those of geniuses in the cyclopedias. But
these traits have no essential connection with the sort of intellect
that makes the men geniuses. We may find them combined with any
sort of intellect, as we find first-rate intellect combined with any sort
of character. The names of Emerson, Longfellow, Lowell, Whit-
tier, and Holmes would probably be those first written by any one
who should be asked for a list of the geniuses of the community in
which I write. Although belonging to the class of poets (the species
of genius most akin to psychopathy by the sensibility it demands),
these men were all distinguished for balance of character and com-
mon sense. So Schiller, so Browning, so George Sand. In poets
like Shelley, Poe, de Musset, on the other hand, we have the intel-
lectual and passionate gifts without the powers of inhibition. In
the sphere of action we have a similar diversity of mixture: we
find the all-round men like Washington, Cavour, and Gladstone ;
the great intellects and wills with no hearts, like Frederic the
Great ; the intense hearts and wills with narrow intellects, like
Garibaldi and John Brown ; the stubborn wills with mediocre
hearts and intellects, like George III. or Philip II. ; and, finally,
the real cranks and half-insane fanatics, often with much of the
equipment of effective genius except a normal set of 'ideas.' It
all depends on the mixture ; only as the elements vary independ-
ently, the chances that a freak of nature in the line of human great-
ness will be as exceptionally strong in all three elements of character
as he is in any one of them, is small. Hence some lop-sidedness in
almost all distinguished personages, hence the rarity of the Dantes,
St. Bernards, and Goethes among the children of men.

294 DEGENERATION AND GENIUS.

One more word : there is a strong tendency among these pathol-
ogical writers to represent the line of mental health as a very narrow
crack, which one must tread with bated breath, between foul fiends
on the one side and gulfs of despond on the other. Now, health is
a term of subjective appreciation, not of objective description, to
borrow a nomenclature from Prof. Royce : it is a teleological term.
There is no purely objective standard of sound health. Any pecu-
liarity that is of use to a man is a point of soundness in him, and what
makes a man sound for one function may make him unsound for
another. Moreover, we are all instruments for social use ; and if
sensibilities, obsessions and other psychopathic peculiarities can so
combine with the rest of our constitution as to make us the more
useful to our kind, why then we should not call them in that context
points of unhealthiness, but rather the reverse.

The trouble is that such writers as Nordau use the descriptive
names of symptoms merely as an artifice for giving objective author-
ity to their personal dislikes. The medical terms become mere
' appreciative ' clubs to knock men down with. Call a man a ' cad '
and you've settled his social status. Call him a 'degenerate,' and
you've grouped him with the most loathsome specimens of the race,
in spite of the fact that he may be one of its most precious members.
The only sort of being, in fact, who can remain as the typical normal
man, after all the individuals with degenerative symptoms have been
rejected, must be a perfect nullity. He must, it is true, be able to
perform the necessities of nature and adapt himself to his environ-
ment so as to come in when it rains ; but being free from all the
excesses and superfluities that make Man's life interesting, without
love, poetry, art, religion, or any other ideal than pride in his non-
neurotic constitution, he is the human counterpart of that 'temper-
ance ' hotel of which the traveler's handbook said : "It possesses no
other quality to recommend it." We all remember the sort of
school-boy who used to ask us six times a day to feel of his biceps.
The sort of man who pounds his mental chest and says to us: "See,
there isn't a morbid fibre in my composition ! " is like unto him.
Few more profitless members of the race can be found. The real
lesson of the genius-books is that we should welcome sensibilities,
impulses and obsessions if we have them, so long as by their means
the field of our experience grows deeper and we contribute the better
to the race's stores; that we should broaden our notion of health
instead of narrowing it; that we should regard no single element of
weakness as fatal — in short that we should not be afraid of life.

W. J.

PS YCHOLOGICA L LI TERA T URE. 29$

GENERAL.

Thtorie de rondulation universelle ; essais sur Involution. B. CONTA.

Paris, Alcan, 1895. Pp. 216.

Perhaps the thing of greatest interest in this volume of meta-
physics is the biography of the author. Conta, born in Maldavin,
of illiterate parents, by turns conjuror and student, constantly
changing his profession to make his living, but always pursued by
the same sensations of hunger and phthisis, ended by becoming
professor of law, and died Minister of Education of his country.
Such a life proves that he was a man of unusual energy. As for his
theories of universal undulation — which are not on the whole very
different from the theories of evolution — they have very little interest
for us, so schematic are they and distant from facts ! Toward
the end of his book there are some curious details on what Conta
calls laws of universal assimilation. I say curious because the
author, hastened and hindered by the malady which finally carried
him off, had not time to develop his thought, and he has thrown
together simple notes, and these notes seem to me to explain his
method very clearly. It follows from the first idea that all bodies
tend to assimilate others by each communicating its own peculiar
external and internal movement. This applies in the first place to
purely physical phenomena : so a body that presses (this is his own
expression, p. 208) communicates the direction of its own displace-
ment to that of the body that is pressed, etc. Then come the physi-
ological phenomena : the particles which go to make bone are trans-
formed into bony matter. Then he passes to contagion of diseases,
without being aware of the abruptness of the transition : the differ-
ent degrees of unhealthiness are communicated from individual to
individual. Finally, the author cites, as being part of the same
series, psychical influences. We experience the emotions of those
with whom we happen to be ; we laugh with those that laugh, and
weep with those who weep, etc. All phenomena attributed to imi-
tation belong to assimilation : "all phenomena produced in the ner-
vous system of the person who influences is communicated with
more or less force to the nervous system of the person influenced "
(p. 211). I think that this series of arguments gives us enough
light on the value of this work. A. B.

SORBONNE, PARIS.

La Vie et la Pensde : essai de conception experimentale. G. PIOGER.

Paris, Alcan, 1894. Pp. 260.

In this book M. Pioger aims to trace the development of organic
life into conscious and mental life, and to this end he gathers and

296 GENERAL.

coordinates facts from the experimental sciences. Hence he adds
to his title the phrase ' experimental conception ' or the systematiza-
tion of our real knowledge. Such knowledge is confined to our
thought of the relations which we find among things, for we cannot
penetrate into the substance of things. Yet it is true and objective
knowledge in spite of Berkeley (?); and this knowledge enables us
to conceive the world experimentally — that is, to systematize the
relations which we perceive and to embrace them as a whole by
thought.

Our thoughts are produced by the special orientation of our psy-
chic sensibility, which suffers the influences of the environment of
which it is a part, and of which the most intimate parts also go to
compose it. So thought is prepared for specific organic and vital
functions. It appears at the moment that what M. Pioger calls men-
tality arises from the relation of certain vital elements. Mentality
is that which personifies our intellectual aptitudes and gives us our
mental constitution. This constitution, therefore, takes root in our
organic constitution, and that in turn in our inorganic constitution —
a result from the solidarity of inorganic elements. From mentality
and its phenomena we reach the concept of consciousness, which is
a mid-term between life and thought.

Consciousness, therefore, plunges its roots into the depths of our
lower life and pushes its branches up into the intellectual and social.
M. Pioger gives a table showing the various ramifications.

The individual consciousness is, then, only a preparation for
social life and consciousness, whose phenomena arise from the recip-
rocal action and articulation of social elements, just as in turn the
phenomena of mentality and intelligence result from the articulation
in the sphere of the individual's psychic sensibility. To the first
part, which gives the analysis of the elements constitutive of thought
and life, and shows the lower regions in which they lie hidden, M.
Pioger adds a second part devoted to the synthesis of elements. He
shows the solidarity which they come to present in the individual
(in thought), in the race (by heredity), and in society.

To sum up, the book is an attempt to throw together some of
the data of experimental science from a point of view similar to
Spencer's, but narrower. But the data are arbitrarily chosen, and
the results are in many cases open to dispute. It is not based on
original or new research. J. PHILIPPE.

SORBONNE, PARIS.

Peregrinazioni Psicologiche. T. VIGNOLI. Milan, Hoepli, 1895. Pp. 404.

This is a collection of notes and essays published on various

occasions between 1882 and 1894. The title of the book is justified

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE.

not only by the variety of subjects it handles, but also by the lack
of any studied arrangement, neither the order of time nor that of
topics being strictly observed. Each article, however, is marked
by lucidity of exposition and by a wealth of details which, though
familiar for the most part to students of psychology, are made to do
good service for the critical and constructive purposes of the author.

The volume would not have suffered seriously by the omission of
the discourse on 'The Paleontology of the Spirit,' as this is merely
a bit of sarcasm expended on unscientific notions — ' fossils of the
mind.' Of the remaining articles, that which possesses the most
actual interest is on 'colored audition.' To understand this phe-
nomenon we must recall the facts of brain-growth. The protoplasm
was the seat of general sensation. As the various tissues, organs
and centres were differentiated, the original aptitude to receive all
sorts of impressions remained in a latent form. Its revival explains
those * organic metaphors ' whereby a single impression gives rise to
different sensations. This explanation, however, is put forward
simply as an hypothesis, with a prudent ' perhaps ' here and there.

'Paramnesia' the author handles with more assurance. Such
peculiarities of memory, far from being abnormal, are accounted for
by three causes : the reproduction, by association, of ideas, images
and feelings ; the rapidity of thought ; and the automatic construct-
ive power of mind and imagination. Because the mind, when it
perceives an analogy between a present object and one that was
previously perceived, fails to distinguish one from the other, it
transfers the actual image to an indefinite past. The comparative
judgment is inhibited partly by the rapidity of thought and partly
by the unconscious character of one of the factors.

To * certain unconscious intervals in a coordinated series of
psychic acts,' a lengthy study is devoted. That such intervals are
possible is shown from numerous facts of memory, dream-picturing
and the ordinary activity of the waking state. They are filled in by
cerebral functions, which, though they do not rise into conscious-
ness, are capable, because of the laws of heredity, of linking one
conscious state with another.

An inquiry into the ' genesis of our sense-perceptions ' leads, by
delicate analysis of the physical and physiological processes, to the
vexed question — How does the brain-motion become sensation ?
The answer is facilitated by a comparison. Between the qualities
which an element acquires in passing from one allotropic state to
another, and its molecular structure, there is no relation that we can
discern. Nor is there, so far as we can perceive, any relation be-

298 GENERAL.

tween the physiological process and the sensation. They are two
states. The physical state and the psychical state are the eternal
and fundamental forms of the universe.

Five of the articles contained in the volume, though treating of
different subjects, present a certain similarity. Thus the growth
of ' the moral sense ' is explained according to the laws of evolution,
and especially of heredity. Man's vicious proclivities are the
effects of atavism, of reversion to a pre-human condition from which
man emerged by an act of reflection. To make the results of this
act prevail over the atavistic tendency, is the secret of social pro-
gress. Again, ' attention ' being widened out till it means 'response
to a stimulus/ it is found to be essentially the same throughout the
animal series. Only in man there is a power of introspection
whereby he can attend to the very act of attention ; and this it is
that distinguishes him from the lower animals. The same line of
demarcation is drawn in the article on the 'origin of articulate
speech.' Man has, in common with other animals, a 'physiological
language'; but this is fundamentally different from speech. The
latter is not a copy but a symbol of the internal process. In man
thought precedes speech ; so that from the articulation of the one
by reflection there results the articulation of the other — its outward
expression.

The importance of the ' sensory image for the development and
exercise of intelligence,' arises from the very vagueness of the image
that would seem to be an imperfection. Our perceptions are gen-
eric, i. <?., they give us but a small part of the details which the
object really contains. This is required in all animals by the neces-
sities of existence ; since life would be impossible if a minute exam-
ination of each object had to be made. In man, moreover, the
generic character of perception aids intelligence and gives rise to
science, by serving as a means of classification and ulterior abstrac-
tion. The act of reflection being proper to man, extreme caution
must be used in interpreting those actions of animals which seem to
be on a par with those of human intelligence. On this principle,
and on his personal observations, Vignoli criticizes with consider-
able keenness the accounts given by Lubbock and others of the
dog's reading and counting abilities, and shows, how in these respects,
the animal is inferior to the child and the savage.

His ' notes on a psychology of sex ' are divided into two parts.
In the first he outlines the intellectual, moral and industrial traits
by which the sexes differ, and which depend upon organic and func-
tional differences. In the second he insists that man, from the

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 299,

beginning, must have been a social being; otherwise, articulate
speech would never have been formed.

WASHINGTON. E. A. PACE.

Philosophy of Mind : An Essay in the Metaphysics of Psychology. G. T.
LADD. New York, Charles Scribner's Sons, 1895. Pp. XIV
+ 4M.

It is a little more than a year since Professor Ladd ended the
preface to his Psychology, Descriptive and Explanatory, with a promise
to deal in a later work with the philosophical problems which empiri-
cal psychology suggests. This promise is fulfilled in the volume
before us. The field covered does not include all the questions to
which psychology gives rise — it would need a system rather than an
'essay' for that — but the author selects for treatment a number of
topics which are intimately connected with current discussions, and
which possess an abiding interest. The standpoint from which these
are considered is that of the 'empirical science of mental phenom-
ena.' As Professor Ladd says (p. 82):

"Indeed, this essay in the philosophy of mind is deliberately
based upon previous long-continued researches into the facts and
laws of a scientific psychology. * * * And it is the author's con-
trolling wish that the validity of the following speculative conclus-
ions should constantly be brought face to face with the conclusions
of the empirical science of mind."

Here, whether it agrees with Professor Ladd's views or not, the
psychological world will be a unit in according him the praise which
is due the patient endeavor to base metaphysics on the only secure
foundation. No one among us has more earnestly studied or more
carefully sifted the data and the outcome of scientific psychology
than Professor Ladd ; no one, therefore, is better entitled to claim
for his results the consideration which of right belongs to thinking
of such a character.

Further, as psychologists are already acquainted with the author' &
empirical conclusions, so they will find his metaphysics familiar
almost at a glance. In general it is distinctly Lotzean in tone ;
while Professor Ladd's special opinions have been foreshadowed in
his earlier works, including his Introduction to Philosophy. Both these
points are evident from the metaphysical preludes with which many
of the chapters of the present work begin, as well as in the conclus-
ions reached. For instance, reality is thus defined (p. 120):

"Every real being is known as a self-active subject of states, stand-
ing in manifold relations to other beings, and maintaining its right

3<X> PHILOSOPHY OF MIND.

to be called real by acting and being acted upon, — only, however, in
obedience to certain laws (or uniform modes of its behavior as such
a being and no other)."

Again, concerning the consciousness of identity, it is argued

(P- iS1):

" Every x (every 'Thing' whatsoever), in order to be entitled still

to be called x (or the 'self-same' thing) must in its changes run only
through series such as can be indicated by x, x1, x*, x3, x* . . . xn ;
or on occasion of its coming into other relations with different beings,
the series may be that indicated by xt x«, x&, xt, Xs . . jcw."

And it is concluded :

"The real identity of anything consists in this, that its self-
activity manifests itself, in all its different relations to other things,
as conforming to an immanent idea." Similarly unity in anything
whatever is held to imply 'the presence of some ideal in the very
being of the thing' (p. 191), and self-consciousness, in its unitary
development, to yield the best, if not the only conception of what a
unit-being is ; permanency in things and minds alike is deemed a
matter of inferred rather than of direct knowledge, and the perma-
nent being of mind is believed interrupted when consciousness
lapses, except for the modicum of existence which consists in 'a
certain abiding relation to all reality' or 'the world-ground' (p.

392).

The interest of psychologists, therefore, will centre about the
way in which these two familiar elements of Professor Ladd's think-
ing are combined and the results to which his inquiry leads him.
The book opens with two chapters on ' Psychology and the Philos-
ophy of Mind.' The chief thesis here is the impossibility of
divorcing psychology and philosophy altogether. This will be
admitted by all — as to the latter end ; for that psychology issues in
the problems which philosophy discusses, is not susceptible of doubt.
That psychology as a science actually does, and of necessity must, •
include metaphysical assumptions in its course, should be equally
clear ; although, no doubt, many will question the truth of the
proposition. It is an easy task for Professor Ladd to show that the
natural science, on the level of which our 'new psychology* delights
to stand, is itself ' shot through ' with metaphysical elements ; and
just as easy, though the work is rather more novel, to prove by ex-
amples— Hoffding, James, and Flournoy are cited — that the professed
rejectors of metaphysics are among the chief offenders against their
own first principle. The nerve of the argument appears, however,
in the conclusion that the only legitimate choice left for the

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 3OI

psychologist is between the uncritical dualism of common life and
the adoption of l some definitive metaphysical point of view ' (p. 42)
of his own selection, as has been done by Volkmann and Wundt.
This may be the alternative in the present transitional condition of
psychology. But surely history points toward a better ideal for the
future, namely, the critical — though not always reflectively critical
— determination and adoption by all of such principles as will best
subserve the progress and the exactness of the science. It was in
this way that the rising sciences of the modern era threw off the
trammels which formed their heritage from Aristotle and the
medievalists ; thus physics, to take a more special example, has in
our own time been criticising some of its fundamental concepts,
although to students of philosophy its advance may seem painfully
hesitating and slow. So also psychology is still in the throes of its
new birth. And when the happy time shall come for us to be fitted
out with even as good a set of working principles as that which the
physical sciences of the day enjoy, we shall be secure from the
vagaries of the 'psychologies without a soul' on the one hand, and
the necessity of constant re-discussion of our primary assumptions
on the other. But on any view of the case, it must be regretted
that Professor Ladd's polemic manner lags behind the material force
of his arguments. The use of horrible examples is always a danger-
ous expedient in a technical treatise ; and the psychological world
will unite in deploring the characterization of Hoifding's introduc-
tion of metaphysics into his psychology as a 'covert effort' (p. 22)
and James's positivistic attitude as the 'position of materialism' (pp.

28, 39).

Chapters III-VI constitute the kernel of the volume. The chief
positive outcome of the first of them, on 'The Concept of Mind,' is
the emphasis laid on the element of self-activity in all self-conscious-
ness. Chapter V, on the ' Consciousness of Identity and So-called
Double Consciousness,' is the paper presented by the author at the
last meeting of the Psychological Association ; together with Chap-
ter VI, on 'The Unity of Mind,' it advocates identity and unity as
real predicates of the self, on the basis of the unity of the life of con-
sciousness and in the sense of the definitions above cited. Chapter
IV deals with a question central to the whole discussion, ' The Re-
ality of Mind.' Noetically, it is argued here, 'knowledge impli-
cates reality,' and, metaphysically, all the marks of reality belong to
the mind, known as a 'here-and-now-being' in self-consciousness
and as a 'then-and-there-being' in memory, and inferred to be a
permanent existence by reflective thought working on the data of

302 PHILOSOPHY OF MIND.

experience. Hence, also, it is concluded as a corollary, "The
peculiar, the only intelligible and indubitable reality which belongs to
Mind is its being for itself, by actual functioning of self-conscious-
iiess, of recognitive memory, and of thought" (p. 147). Yet it is with a
sense of disappointment that the reader ends the chapter. The
difficulty is partly one of method. In putting his most important
thesis so early in his work the author has lost the advantage of the
several arguments, positive and negative, which later on might have
been combined into a proof of cumulative force. It is partly a
difficulty with Professor Ladd's theory of knowledge, at least in so
far as he has yet announced it. After diligent study of his various
works, the present writer inclines to the belief that his first principle,
u knowledge implicates reality,' knowledge and reality are correlates,
etc., might lin some sort' be acceptable to many of those not
agnostics or phenomenists. But when this is used as a kind of uni-
versal major, with little or no systematic determination of subordi-
nate criteria, especially when the psychology and the noetics of
self-consciousness are so intermingled that it is often impossible to
decide on the basis of which of the two the argument is proceeding ;
the effect is not only confusion concerning the meaning of Professor
Ladd's reasonings, but doubt in regard to their validity. But the
difficulty arises partly, also, from an underestimation of the strength
of opposing theories. The same failure to realize the importance of
the reinforcements which have come to the cerebralists and material-
ists from the newer researches that marked Part III of the
Physiological Psychology, reappears in the present treatise. And this,
though the psychological world owes a debt of gratitude to Professor
Ladd for the earnest defence of the reality and spirituality of mind
which he has given alike in the earlier and in the later work.

Chapters VII-VIII, on 'Mind and Body,' are for the most part
an elaboration of chapters XI, XXI and XXII of Psychology, Descrip-
tive and Explanatory. But chapters IX, ' Materialism and Spiritual-
ism,' and X, 'Monism and Dualism,' are among the most successful
in the book. In the former vigorous blows are dealt the materialistic
theory, without yielding to the claims of spiritualism in the monistic
sense of the term. In the latter a still more forcible assault is made
on both the scientific basis and the metaphysical deductions of the
current psychological Spinozism. In Professor Ladd's own words
(P- 344) :

"In brief, then, the alleged scientific principle of psycho-physical
parallelism is far from being the self-evident conclusion of modern
ps#£hGr.physical research w4iich.-it is so. often, and. so rashly assumed

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 303

to be. Even the simplest relations between the phenomena of the
lowest order of consciousness and the concomitant cerebral activities
are far too fluctuating, complicated and changeable to be subsumed
under this principle. Of parallelism in space we cannot speak
appropriately in this connection. Of parallelism in time there is
only an incomplete and broken analogy. And when one tries to
think out clearly the conception of a complete qualitative parallelism,
one finds the principle soon ending in inadequacy, and finally becom-
ing unintelligible or absurd * * * ."

Nor if the doctrine of psycho-physical parallelism, in the fullest
meaning of the phrase, were proven, would monism necessarily fol-
low. Rather the clearest inference would be to a moderate dualism,
even though it is difficult to share the author's confidence that the
* double-aspect* theory is utterly meaningless.

The remaining discussions of the 'Origin and Permanence of
Mind ' and the * Place of Man's Mind in Nature ' point forward to
the future development of Professor Ladd's views on ethics and the
philosophy of religion. These will be the more eagerly awaited in
view of the value of the present volume, which, in spite of defects,
is one of the most notable contributions of recent years to the litera-
ture of the subject. A. C. ARMSTRONG, JR.

WESLEYAN UNIVERSITY.

Elements of Psychology (Syllabus of Philosophy /). J. H. HYSLOP,

Columbia College, New York, 1895. Pp. 130.
This syllabus is best described in Dr. Hyslop's own words: "As
a time-saving instrument in my lectures on the subject, and as a
guide to my students in their reading and study." It has also a
personal interest in showing those who have been instructed by the
author's work in other departments — logic and ethics — his general
conception of the psychological area and its problems. Aside from
these two uses it is hard to see what purpose it can serve. The
analysis, while systematic and thorough as analysis, (excepting the
chapter on emotion) does not allow one to see far enough into Dr.
Hyslop's mind to warrant confidence as to one's insight into what
his psychological position really is, This, of course, is a defect, if
defect it be, not in execution but in original design ; for Professor
Dewey has recently shown in his * Study of Ethics ' the possibility of
a syllabus which shall contain both outline and suggestive doctrine.
The analysis is indeed so thorough and comprehensive that here at
least we believe that 'the part is not worth more than the whole,'
•and we hope that Dr. Hyslop may see fit some time to give his lee-

304 POPULAR SCIENTIFIC LECTURES.

tures text-book form. The balance between the introspective and
the ' extrospective ' methods is, so far as can be judged, well pre-
served, and the author's breadth of view and psychological tolerance
are well shown in his use of the observations of the 'psychic
researchers.' How justifiable his particular use of these observations
is, is another question (witness, for example, the remarks on the
phenomena of retention), for the condensed analytic outline, because
of its necessary meagerness, warns one off the field of interpretation
and criticism. This is shown again in the remarks made on sublimi-
nal consciousness.

Particularly striking is Chapter X, on the 'Will or Conation.'
Psychological students owe the author a debt of gratitude for this
piece of analysis. It is a valuable supplement to the chapter on the
1 Freedom of the Will' in the Ethics. These two chapters throw
light on each other. R. B. JOHNSON.

MIAMI UNIVERSITY.

Popular Scientific Lectures. E. MACH. Translated by Thomas J.
McCormack. Chicago, The Open Court Publishing Co., 1895.
Pp. 313. Price, $1.00.

Nearly all the lectures constituting this volume deal with the
physiological or psychological side of physical questions ; four treat
of the methods and development of science, briefly outlining a
theory of cognition.

Science, according to Prof. Mach, is essentially an economy of
thought. Rooted in the most primitive psychical functions of life,
this economy reaches its highest perfection in language and mathe-
matics. Here, in the psychological origin and nature of our ideas,
the elucidative power of the principle is obvious.

A natural law is a rule or body of directions for the mental re-
construction of facts ; enabling us to anticipate and retrace in
thought the steps of nature. To this end it embraces only certain
aspects of the facts, such as are determinative. By means of these
determinative elements and their formal constituents, we complete
in thought facts that are only partly given; derive complete results
from incomplete data. To reach the ungiven elements we should,
on the primitive plan, have to resort to slow and tedious experience;
that infinite pains we save ourselves by economical natural laws.
This is all that science accomplishes. Its individual results we
could reach in a sufficiently long time directly and without methods.

The mental reconstruction of facts we accomplish by description,1

1 The view that ' explanation ' is merely the description of unknown phenomena in
terms of known phenomena was stated by Mach before either Clifford or Kirchhoff,

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 305

rendered necessary by communication, effected by comparison. Of
description there are two kinds: direct and indirect. We describe
a fact directly when we employ terms having an abstract import only,
where our comparisons suggest only conceptual relations. For ex-
ample, the definition of quantity of heat, being a definite numerical
statement of a certain determinate relation between temperatures
and masses, is a direct description, involving no adscititious notion,
and having validity whether heat is a substance or a motion ; and
the same is true of energy. Now Black, in formulating the defini-
tion of quantity of heat, and Mayer and Joule, in stating the law of
energy, viewed the facts under the notion of a substance ; in so doing
they resorted to indirect description — they employed a simile in which
unessential and superfluous features were involved. Of such a char-
acter are theories in science, the wave-theory of light, heat as a
motion, etc., useful in the preliminary steps of research, of unmis-
takable power as heuristic agents, but destined to be discarded
when that final consummation of knowledge is reached — the simplest
and completest possible abstract expression of the facts. Direct descrip-
tion is the goal of all research. Moreover, the method of physiolo-
gical psychology is the same as that of physics.

Finally, is science, description, the ultimate unanalysable term
in knowledge ? Viewed in its higher collective relations, and quali-
fied by the restrictions incident upon such a view, it is. We seek in
philosophy an integral aspect of the universe ; but our method is the
differential method. It is in the latter that we must seek the foun-
dations and conditions of our knowledge, not in the former. That
economy which is embodied in our thoughts is conditioned upon the
formal needs of the mind, but it is not necessarily to be found in
nature. T. J. MCCORMACK.

SOCIAL PSYCHOLOGY.

(i.) An Introduction to the Study of Society. A. W. SMALL and G. E,

VINCENT. Am. Book Co., 1894.
(2.) Les Transformations du droit. G. TARDE. 2 erne ed. Alcan,

1894.
(3.) limitation et la logique sociale. R. BERTHELOT, Revue de

Metaphysique et de Morale. 1894. Pp. 93-97.

with whose names it is usually associated. The theory, natural enough in its origin,
is not new in philosophy, although propounded independently by all the above-men-
tioned inquirers and rendered exact only by their definitions.

306 SOCIAL PSYCHOLOGY.

(4.) Le Probttme de la sociologie. G. SIMMEL, idem. Pp. 497-504.
(5.) Les Ragles de la methode sociologique. E. DURKHEIM, Revue Phi-
losophique, May-August, 1894.

The province and method of sociology are at present a centre of
discussion. As sociology in one of its aspects is social psychol-
ogy, this involves discussion as to the possibility of a social as vs. an
individual psychology, and, if this be admitted, as to the natural
relations of the two.

i. The province of sociology is, according to Professor Small, three-
fold. Descriptive sociology is the science of the coordinated facts
of society as it is ; statical sociology is the science of social ideals,
an approximate account of the society which ought to be ; dynami-
cal sociology studies the available resources for changing the actual
into the ideal. Passing over the last two, descriptive sociology is
more particularly "the organization of all the positive knowledge of
man and of society furnished by biology, anthropology, psychology,"
etc., etc., and "attempts to combine the testimony of these special
sciences into a revelation of the accidental and permanent factors in
social combinations." The other writers are all inclined to seek a
narrower, more specific field. M. Tarde (whose numerous works
demand a special treatment) finds the essential characteristic of
social phenomena to be 'imitation,' understood in the sense of
"every reflection of one mind in others, of one will in others."
Similar social phenomena (those of law are studied in particular)
may be due either to 'invention,' in response to the demands of the
environment, which refers us to a biological cause, or to imitation, a
social cause. It is then this latter class of relations which forms the
subject of a 'pure' sociology, as distinguished from biology and his-
tory. M. Berthelot, in an acute review of Tarde (Revue de Met.,
l893> 5°7-5l8), of which (3) is a restatement, objects that to
make imitation the sole social category is a mistake like that of the
Ionic school of philosophers with their water, air, etc. "The object
of a 'pure sociology' is to determine the conditions apart from
which no stable social group is possible." Sociology is social logic,
a theory of the inventions necessary for society ; and imitation, like
language or law, is merely one of these necessities. In fact, it falls
under the consideration of pure sociology only in proportion as it is
shown to be necessary to this end. Professor Simmel attempts a
still more definite delimitation. If sociology embraces all that
occurs in society, and is understood as an explanation of all events
by social forces and considerations, it is only a method (as, e. g.,
induction), not a special science. But as psychology separates

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 3O/

out the content of mental states and considers simply the form, so
sociology must isolate the distinctively social and study the form of
association as such. The contents, /. e., the interests and objects real-
ized by association, belong to the specific historical and material
sciences. The 'form' in question is reciprocal action, association;
and in the most various types of social groups — religious, economic,
etc. — we find the same special forms of subordination, imitation,
division of labor, etc. The mere fact that phenomena are common
to all does not make them social, nor do similarities and regularities
established by statistics belong here if each has an individual cause.
Not what takes place in society, but what takes place by society, is the
field of sociology. M. Durkheim, though his chief aim is to set
forth the methods to be employed in the science, prefaces his ex-
tremely suggestive articles by a consideration of what is meant by a
social fact. A social fact comprises " every kind of activity or func-
tioning, whether fixed in definite law or not, which is capable of ex-
ercising an external constraint upon the individual, or one which is
general throughout a given society and has a proper existence of its
own, independent of its individual manifestations." Language,
law, financial systems impose themselves on the individual. They
are general because collective (/. e., obligatory), and not vice versa.

2. The relation of sociology to psychology, implied in these various
definitions, is in many cases evident. None of our writers would, I
think, accept Mill's statements, "men are not, when brought to-
gether, converted into another kind of substance," "human beings
in society have no properties but those which are derived from and
may be resolved into the laws of the nature of individual man" —
/. <?., if we understand by 'individual man' man in isolation from all
social relations ; and it is difficult to find anything worth saying in
the statement if it does not mean this. Small, Tarde and Durkheim
lay especial emphasis upon society as more than the sum of indi-
viduals, and the last named devotes a special criticism to any psy-
chological explanation of social facts — meaning by * psychological '
an explanation based on the laws of the individual consciousness.
Similarly Professor Small would distinguish "between (i) Psychology
which gives an account of mind as we know it in the individual, and
(2) Social Psychology, which describes the phenomena that result from
the combination and reaction of the cognitions, emotions and voli-
tions of associated individuals." Now, I can but think that Mill's
* individual man ' hovers in the background of these statements, and
that if psychology is limited to the study of that mythical being, its
field is so narrow as to be scarcely worth tilling. No doubt the

308 SOCIAL PSYCHOLOGY.

sociologists are leading the psychologists into broader horizons ; but
if we follow out the implications of the authors cited, and abstract
from 'mind as we know it in the individual,' all that results from the
forces mentioned under (2), e. g., all the effects of language and in-
tercourse, all feelings of sympathy, love, all volitions involving
others, we should certainly have a much smaller man than even
present psychology studies. Would not the ' difficulty of demon-
strating the existence of social as distinguished from individual
knowledge, feeling and willing, be removed by the recognition here
of what is elsewhere implied in the authors' conception of man, viz.,
that neither (i) nor (2) deals with anything but an abstraction.
There is no 'individual mind,' /. e., mind not under the constant in-
fluence of the social relations ; neither can we hope to find any
'social' knowledge or feeling, /. <?., knowledge or feeling not exist-
ing in the medium of individual consciousness. We may doubtless
study various aspects of consciousness in isolation, but their abstract
character should be distinctly recognized, and neither ' psycholo-
gist' nor 'sociologist' can ignore the work of the other.

3. The methods to be used in investigation are treated at length
by Durkheim. They include (i) rules relating to observation of
social facts. These are : (a) consider social facts as things. Bacon's
'idols' all find their counterparts in social science at present; (b) in
defining and grouping phenomena, such as crime, the family, etc., use
at first external marks only, not by what may be deemed the essential
characteristics, nor should merely one type of facts be selected and
the rest tested by this standard ; (c) study especially the consolida-
tions of social facts in law, proverbs, modes, etc. (2) Rules for
distinguishing the pathological from the normal. Here the rather
startling proposition is advanced that, at the outset at least, the
only objective criterion for the normal is the general. Hence nor-
mal=the mean, diseased=the exceptional. But it is evident that
greater frequency must ordinarily be due to superiority, to ' health;'
hence (a) we may control our results by seeking the cause of the
generality of a given phenomena in its relation to the general condi-
tions of life in the social type considered ; and (b) this becomes
especially necessary in the case of a social species in a transitional
stage. (3) For making the classification into social types, the
objective principle to be adopted as our standard is that of sim-
plicity— /. <?., we ask whether a given group is made up of units
which enclose other units more simple than itself. (4) Rules for ex-
plaining social faults, (a) It is common to find the reason of a fact
in its utility. This is to confound final with efficient causation, and

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 309

is no more admissible here than in natural science. Function and
cause must be examined separately, (b) The cause of a social fact
must always be sought in preceding social facts, not in states of indi-
vidual consciousness [see remarks under 2 above], (c) The func-
tion of a social fact should be sought in the relation it sustains to
some social end. (d) The first origin of every social process should
be sought in the constitution of the internal social medium. This
will depend upon two factors : (a) the number of social units, the
'•volume' of society ; (/?) the degree of concentration, the 'dynamic
density,' which is a function of the number of individuals who are in
commercial and social relations. If we do not adopt this plan we
are reduced to explain progress by ' tendencies ' instead of by
real causes ; and, further, are forced to treat all as one species in
greater or less stages of advancement. (5) Methods of induction,
(a) The doctrine of plurality of causes bound up with Mill's philo-
sophic presuppositions is to be rejected. The same effect is not pro-
duced by different causes, (b) The most valuable of the inductive
methods for our purpose is that of concomitant variations, for which
we may draw our facts either from a single unique society at differ-
ent times, or from several societies of the same kind, or from several
of different kinds.

The principle most likely to challenge criticism is that reducing
the normal to the general. M. Tarde has already criticised (Revue
Phil.) Feb., '95) Durkheim's own inference from it : that crime
must be normal because general. But are not both D. and T. hasty
in asserting that the above definition carries with it the inference that
crime is normal ? Is crime ever so general in any group as to be the
rule and not the exception — meaning by crime, of course, acts con-
sidered criminal by the group in question ?

UNIV. OF CHICAGO. J. H. TUFTS.

NEUROLOGY.

Anatomic des Centres Nerveux. J. DEJERINE, avec la collaboration
de Mme. DEJERINE-KLUMPKE. Vol. I. General Methods of
Study, Embryology, Histogenesis and Histology-Anatomy of
the Fore-Brain. With 401 figures. Paris, Rueff et Cie., 1895.
Price, 32 francs.

The revolution in the doctrine on the architecture of the ner-
vous system has been followed by a number of publications which
endeavor to do justice to the rapid progress. None of those books
reaches in breadth of plan and in the number and choice of illustra-

310 NEUROLOGY.

tions the new work of Professor Dejerine, the first volume of which
has just come out. Professor Dejerine, a pupil of Vulpian, is in the
midst of a brilliant career as a clinician in the field of nervous dis-
eases. Independent of Charcot's school, he has done remarkable
work in the Hospital of Bicetre, which is probably without rival in
rare nervous affections. His wife, Madame Dejerine-Klumpke, of
American birth, has become known through her experimental work
in Vulpian's laboratory and through her monograph on polyneuritis.
The volume before us is the first of a monumental work on the ner-
vous system from the hands of clinicians, and will for this reason be
of the greatest intent and practical value.

The first part begins with the history and description of the
methods used for the study of the nervous system (pp. 7-57). A
very interesting discussion of the choice of a post-mortem disse<
tion, especially in pathological brains, with full description of the
author's own method, precedes the notes on hardening, embedding,
staining and drawing. The second chapter (pp. 58-153) deals with
the development of the nervous system, and contains valuable tera-
tological remarks, besides a remarkably clear and well-illustrated
account of the assiduous work of the last years. The third and
fourth chapters (pp. 134-232) are devoted to histogenesis and to
histology of the central and peripheral nerve elements in the adult.
The first part is profusely illustrated with drawings taken from the
publications of His, Retzius, Cajal and Ranvier; the selection of tl
drawings and their execution deserve equally high praise.

The second part of the volume treats of the anatomy of the
Fore-Brain. The first chapter (pp. 223-386) covers the general
morphology, the convolutions and fissures, the base of the fore-brain
and the configuration of its interior. Numerous drawings from
photographs take the place of the customary diagrams. The second
and third chapters (pp. 387-666) are practically a description of
macroscopic and microscopic serial sections through the cerebrum,
made in different directions, and forming the most complete atlas of
those parts published so far. A chapter on the cerebral cortex (pp.
667-741), and one on the white substance of the cerebral hemis-
pheres (pp. 742-810), form the end of this first volume, rich in path-
ological observations with regard to the association systems. The
second volume will bring the description of the remaining parts and
a systematic analysis of the fibre tracts.

The style is very clear, the current epitome on the margin of the
pages very convenient. Schematic drawings are avoided ; the
figures are very accurately drawn and clear.

PS YCHOLOGICAL LITERA TURE. 3 1 I

Thus we have before us the first half of a work of fundamental
importance for the progress of neurology, destined to bring the
clinician into closer touch with the anatomical literature that is
scattered in monographs and journals, and is here for the first time
made satisfactorily accessible. Meritorious as are the smaller works
of Edinger, Obersteiner Fe"re, Debierre, and the purely anatomical
treatises, none of them could give such a full account of the minute
details that interest the clinicians and pathologists of to-day. It is
to be hoped that the second volume will soon follow and bring a
very accurate index. ADOLF MEYER.

KANKAKEE, ILL.

The Growth of the Brain in Men and Monkeys, with a short Criticism of
the usual Method of stating Brain-ratios. A. KEITH. Journal
of Anatomy and Physiology, Vol. XXIX, Part II, Jan., 1895.

The novel data in this paper comprise a series of brain-weights
from 135 catarrhine apes. These have been collected from the
literature and carefully compiled in tables. For reasons given in
the text, brains preserved in alcohol are considered to have lost
about 33 per cent, of their fresh weights. Where the brain-weight
was deduced from the cranial capacity, the capacity in cubic centi-
meters was taken as equal to the same number of grammes. There
is evidence that the brain much more nearly fills the cranium in these
apes than it does in the case of man, and this method introduces no
very great error. To be compared with these data are those on the
growth of the human brain, based on the figures by Boyd.

The period during which the brain grows is much longer in man
than in apes, even though the author is inclined to limit the growing
period in man to twenty years. The difference between the brain-
weight at birth and at maturity in man is greater than in the apes,
or other mammals which have here been studied. This is but
a different expression of the fact that in man the brain grows for a
longer period. The central nervous system is precocious in its de-
velopment, and attains nearly its full weight, while yet the body-
weight is little more than one-third that of the adult. In all mammals
this precocity of the central system is evident, and is most marked
in the cephalic subdivisions of it. All these features are emphasized
in man. From a comparison according to sex of the data on the
brain weights of the several groups of apes, it appears that just as in
man, the male has a heavier encephalon.

This is a most interesting discovery. Our author then attacks
the difficult problems of the relation between the mass of the body

312

VISION.

and that of the central nervous system. He seeks the determination
of the 'corporeal concomitant' or the number of grammes increase
in brain for each kilo, of increase in body weight.

Assuming this to be a valid relation, the entire 'corporeal con-
comitant' of the adult man would be but a small fraction of the
total weight of the central system. The explanation here offered
is questionable, as is also the explanation of the difference in the
weight of the nervous system due to sex ; making it dependent on
the absolute increase in this corporeal concomitant in the heavier
male. Detailed tables accompany this paper. H. H. D.

VISION.

Ueber die Anzahl der unterscheidbaren Spectralfarben und ffelligkeits-
stufen. A. KONIG. Ztsch. f. Psych. VIII, 5, 375-380.
Professor Konig reproduces with more detail the result which he
had already announced — that the entire number of different color-
tones perceptible in the spectrum by the normal eye is about 165,
and that the entire number of distinguishable brightnesses, from the
threshold of sensation to the greatest brightness attainable under
the conditions of the experiment, is, for white light, 572. The
method is a simple one for the mathematician, and the only wonder
is that it has not been applied before. If X and 8 X are the wave-
lengths of two monochromatic lights which are just distinguishable
from each other in tone, then 8X is a variable whose value depends
upon the value of X. Within an interval of the spectrum for which
X changes by any fixed unit, the number of distinguishable color

tones would be J^, and the entire number throughout the spectrum
6X

would be

J

x <*.

taken between the limits X 430 and X 655, beyond which, in either
direction, the color-tone does not change. The value of SX, at
short intervals throughout the spectrum, has been experimentally
determined by Uhthoff (Graft's Arch.y 34, 4, i); hence the required
curve can be laid down and integrated by graphical means. The
number of perceptible degrees of brightness is determined in the
same manner from the experimental data furnished by Konig and
Brodhun in their investigation of Weber's law (Sitzungsber : d. Btrl.
Akad., 1888 and 1889); in this case it is necessary to produce the

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 313

curve symmetrically somewhat beyond the part which can be laid
down from actual measurements ; but that can safely be done, be-
cause the area taken in by this means is only a small fraction of the
whole area, and has therefore only a small effect upon the result.
The entire number of discernible brightnesses is in this way found to
be about 660. These results differ very little for the eyes of differ-
ent normal individuals. For Brodhun, who is green-blind, the
differences in sensitiveness to change of brightness were within the
limit of probable error ; in color-tone his number of distinct sensa-
tions is about 140. This number does not differ much from that of
the normal eye, for the reason that, although his spectrum does not
change beyond X 550, he has a keener sense for change of color-tone
in the blue-green region than has the normal individual.

In this connection it may be interesting to point out a most ex-
traordinary statement which occurs in a book which is otherwise an
admirable example of good scientific method — Havelock Ellis' Men
and Women. It is there stated that Newton was able to distinguish
seven different colors in the spectrum, but that most people since
his time have only been able to see six. To how many of the 165
colors which are actually discernible by the ordinary person, it may
be desirable to give a separate name for popular use is a question the
answer to which may change from time to time ; but not to be able
to distinguish between this question and the question of the number
of colors which can be separated in sensation, is to have a mind which
is abnormally incapable of drawing distinctions.

The question of the number of differences of saturation which are
just perceptible for different colors has been treated by Aubert,
Woinow and J. J. Miiller ; but, of course, the subject lacks all inter-
est when the investigation is not made with spectral lights. To de-
termine by a corresponding method with the one here considered,
the total number of distinguishable sensations caused by light of all
kinds would require in effect the integration by mechanical means
of a solid body in space of four dimensions — what it is not beyond the
powers of the mathematician to accomplish.

BALTIMORE. C. LADD FRANKLIN.

Die Wahrnehmung von Helligkeitsveranderungen. L. W. STERN.

Zeitsch. f. Psych., VII, 249-278. 1894. Nachtrag to the above.

Ibid, VII, 395-397-
Die Wahrnehmung von Bewegungen vermittelst des Auges. L. W. STERN.

Zeitsch. f. Psych., VII, 321-386. 1894.

A number of researches have recently been published (by Scrip-

3'4

VISION.

ture and Preyer, in Zeitsch. f. Psych., VI and VII) upon the man-
ner in which variations in the rapidity with which a stimulus changes
in intensity affects in various senses the perceptibility of the change.
In the first of the above papers, with its Nachtragy Stern investi-
gates the same problem with reference to changes in brightness.
After summing up the results of previous investigations, which have
had to do mainly with the problem of the upper limit, or the condi-
tions under which rapidly successive changes in brightness yield a
continuous impression, he describes in detail his own researches as
to the lower limit, or the conditions under which a slow (or a single)
change in brightness is just perceptible. For these experiments he
used a dark box, having on its further inside wall a round white
field, which was illuminated by light thrown exactly on it through a
lens, and apparatus for increasing or diminishing in measurable
amount and rapidity the light passing through the lens, without al-
tering the exact coincidence of its image with the white field on
which it was thrown. His results, which he regards as only provis-
ional, are as follows : i. When the brightening is approximately
instantaneous, and is at once perceived, the relative sensitiveness ta
change of intensity is constant ; Weber's law is valid. He found
this relative sensitiveness to change to be about ^ — not so fine as
sensitiveness to simultaneous differences. 2. If the objective change
lasts for a short time before it is perceived, the results as to relative
sensitiveness and as to duration of objective movement before per-
ception of change, are distinct: (a) The absolute rapidity of bright-
ening remaining constant, the duration before perception of change
is greater the greater the initial intensity ; within a certain range of
intensities the sensitiveness to change remains constant, (b) The
relative rapidity of change remaining constant, the duration is
shorter, the relative sensitiveness greater, the smaller the initial
intensity (and thus the absolute rapidity), (c) The initial intensity
remaining constant, the duration is longer and the relative sensitive-
ness greater, the smaller the absolute rapidity. (This does not
apply to sensitiveness in case the perception of change is instanta-
neous.) 3. Other things equal, changes in brightness are more rap-
idly perceived and the relative sensitiveness is greater in indirect
vision than in direct. 4. The relative sensibility is less (£ to J)
when the changes become perceptible only after an interval, than
when they are perceptible at once. 5. The reaction time in percep-
tion of gradual change in brightness is of considerable length (.4 to
.7 sec.). Stern believes that the instantaneous perception of change
in brightness is different from the perception of change through

PS YCHOLOGICAL LITER A TURE. 3 1 5

comparison of two phases ; both often cooperate, but can also ap-
pear separately.

Stern's second paper is a monograph on the question of the visual
perception of movement. It consists of four subdivisions. The
first (pp. 322-328) discusses the (i) facts — upper and lower limit,
difference between perception of phases of movement and of the
movement itself, perception with resting and moving eye ; (2) the
characteristics of movement-perception — influence and recognition
of direction, of rapidity, of duration, of presence of objects at rest,
the sensitiveness to difference for and the attention to moving
objects, and the relativity of movement ; (3) perception of move-
ments with different portions of the retina ; and (4) visual illusions
of movement. The second division (pp. 328-341) gives a historical
summary of theories. The third (341-352) announces the results of
the author's own observations and experiments, showing (i) a con-
firmation of Exner's observation that the sensitiveness of the retina
in the peripheral portions is greater for moving than for resting
objects ; and that this is due to irradiation, for both irradiation and
sensitiveness to movement diminish by diminished illumination ; and
(2) that after-images of movement appear when the eyes are closed
as well as when they are directed upon some resting object, after
observing the movement ; they are both positive and negative if the
eye has been fixated during an appreciable time, positive only if the
eye has not been fixated during observation, or has been opened for
a fraction of a second only. The fourth division (353-385) dis-
cusses the theory of the visual perception of movements. Three
theories as to the sensory factors in such perception are evidently
possible: (i) that they consist of several successive impressions of
the object at rest — the different phases of the movement — and that
the fact of movement is inferred from these ; (2) that a sensation of
movement exists, specifically different from other sensations, fully
elementary and unanalyzable, like color or tone (held apparently by
Exner, James, etc.); (3) that a single sensory impression, obtainable
in a single instant, can yield the perception of movement ; but that
this sensory impression, instead of being unanalyzable, consists really
of a particular complex of sensations from retina or eye-muscles, or
both. In other words, it is a sensory group, forming a 'fusion '
which is introspectively unanalyzable, but is really separable into ele-
mentary sensations of color and of muscular contraction, with differ-
ences in intensity, quality and spatial relations. The term ' sensa-
tion' is applicable only in the sense in which it is used in express-
ions like ' sensation of depth, of smoothness,' etc. Stern rightly

316 VISION.

rejects the second of these theories and accepts the other two. He
linds that when the sensory impression is momentary, admitting of
no comparison of phases, it may be of three varieties : (a) ' changed
stimulation ' — change in intensity or kind of stimulation in a given
region of the retina may under certain conditions give the percep-
tion of movement ; (b) the * after-image trail ' (Nachbildstreifen)—
in case of movement of a certain rapidity, the after-images of previ-
ous phases are still present when a new phase is reached, and form a
series of images of the same object, running into one another, and
forming a complete scale of intensities. Thus different phases of
the movement are seen simultaneously. Though we are not ordina-
rily conscious of these after-images, yet they give to the sensory
complex its particular nuance. Changed stimulation can inform
•only as to the fact of movement ; the after-image trail can inform also
as to what the object is, its direction and rapidity, and makes possi-
ble also the simultaneous perception of several movements in differ-
ent directions, (c) Eye movements. These three principles, to-
gether with the two varieties of comparison of phases (optical and
muscular), make five sensory factors, any one of which may give the
perception of movement, but which also form varied and compli-
•cated combinations with one another. Stern, in conclusion, applies
these principles to the explanation of certain complicated percep-
tions and illusions : the reversibility of the impression of movement,
the relativity of movement, the rapidity and after-images of move-
ment.

Stern nowhere discusses the part played by memory-images of
other sensory factors, when any one of the above-named factors
arouses the perception of movement. He claims, for instance, that
the Nachbildstreifen alone, independently of eye-movement sensa-
tions, can give the perception of movement. It is true that this
may be the only present sensory factor. But the complete percep-
tion of movement must be a very complicated affair, the gradually
perfected product of a great amount of experience of cooperating
sensory factors ; and may it not be that the memory-images of sen-
sations from eye and other active bodily movements form a promi-
nent and necessary factor in every perception of movement ? If so,
then the Nachbildstreifen or other singly present sensory factor,
«ven when it arises from several simultaneous movements in differ-
ent directions, would receive its perceptual interpretation as move-
ment only through the admixture of such memory-images.

Furthermore, to the reviewer, it has seemed as if there might be
a sixth sensory factor sometimes operative, especially in case of the

PS YCHOLOGICAL LI TERA TURE. 3 1 7

after-images of movement. When the eyes have been exposed for
a length of time to a flickering light, the flickering sometimes con-
tinues for a period after cessation of the stimulus ; and might be
explained as a continuation of the rhythmic adjustment which the
retina during stimulation is making to the rhythmically changing
intensities of stimulation. Now in case of prolonged observation of
a movement, as of a revolving spiral or a waterfall, etc., such flick-
erings practically proceed in waves along the stimulated portions of
the retina, and may possibly continue in the same or opposite sense
on cessation of the stimulus, and be a factor in the positive and
negative after-images of movement, which Stern attributes wholly
to the Nachbildstreifen. E. B. DELABARRE.

BROWN UNIVERSITY.

MEMORY AND ATTENTION.

Experimented Untersuchungen iiber das Geddchtniss. W. LEWY. Zeitschr^.
f. Psych. VIII, 231-272.

Of the two groups of experiments here recorded, the first relates
to memory (retentiveness) of small visual distances (20-200 mm.).,
By the use of an appropriate * Augenmassapparat ' on which the
* normal' distances were each exposed for 5 sees, in arbitrary order
and by application of the method of average error, it was found that
the error increased, in general, with the time of retention (1-60
sees.), with exclusion of ocular movement, with distraction of the at-
tention during the interval of retention, with shortened exposure-
time, and when two distances for retention were taken in succession
instead of one. The most striking exception was that one second
for retention was much less favorable than two, due, in L.'s opinion,,
not to oscillating attention, but to the necessary haste. Other
variations suggesting periodicity in the clearness of the image, he
inclines to attribute to causes as yet unknown. The memory was
not appreciably improved by practice.

The second group of experiments deals with the local memory of
simple touch-sensations. The area of stimulation was a limited
region on the dorsal side of the arm above the wrist, the method
of measurement again that of average error. Under the most
favorable conditions it was found that the error steadily increased
with the time-interval for retention ; was more frequent and greater
in a distal than in a proximal direction ; was less when estimated
with reference to the point ultimately judged right than when referred
to the point first selected ; curiously varied, being even in one case

3 1 8 MEMOR Y AND A TTENTION.

less, when the retention-interval was 'filled.' The slight influence
of mental reckoning compared with its marked influence in the case
•of small visual distances, indicates the importance in reckoning
of ocular movement. Accuracy of localisation was improved with
practice, with variations, however, not easily explained. The intro-
spective evidence, which is well presented as supplementary to the
bare record of the tables, shows that the feeling of defective atten-
tion by no means always coincides with greater error in localisation,
while in the first group it shows how manifold and individually varied
.are the factors which determine the accuracy of even a compara-
tively simple act of recognition.

The Relation of Attention to Memory. W. G. SMITH. Mind, N. S. IV,
47-73. January, 1895.

An experimental study from the Physiological Laboratory at Ox-
ford! Under suitable conditions sets of letters were exposed each
for 10 sees. ; the reagent then repeated what he could remember.
While memorizing, the attention was variously distracted. Finally,
experiments were made for 'normal' results. Comparison of the
cases showed that the greatest disturbance was caused by the
activity involved in summation (arithmetical progression), and that
that produced by speech (repetition of a syllable) was greater than
that produced by mere muscular movement (tapping with the
finger). The results emphasize afresh the importance of the motor
factor in memory, particularly in the suggested interference of the
articulatory innervations involved in memorizing by the activity of
the vocal mechanism. In the relatively large number of errors of
insertion and displacement in the group where distraction was
greatest, the author sees the influence of inattention not only to
•cause fewer ideas to be recollected, but especially to confuse and
-derange the associative connections : this against Munsterberg. In-
attention disturbs the apperceptive process, tends to turn Wahrneh-
mung into Empfindung and to produce a sort of Seelenblindheit ; the
•essential fact in attention, on the other hand, is 'the strengthening
of an idea or impression by the processes of blending and redintegra-
tion.' Contiguity in association is merely formal ; the real causes
are dynamic factors, such as Attention and Interest, and these
mainly in connection with motor agencies.

The author introduces a novel 'positive' method of measuring
the accuracy of reproduction, viz., by marking it on a certain scale
like an examination-paper ; but it does not appear to what extent
the ' negative ' metlmd ,of .error, -which he also uses, is thereby con-

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 319

trolled. The paper as a whole represents a noteworthy transition
from the experimental study of the time-relations of memory begun
by Ebbinghaus to the more difficult experimental study of the
analysis and dynamic relations of its constituents.

What do we mean by Intensity of Psychical States? F. H. BRADLEY.
Mind, N. S. IV, 1-27. January, 1895.

That sensations are not measurable quantities, that "our judg-
ments of more intensity can be expressed without the hypothesis
that more units have been added to a growing sum" (James), is an
opinion now widely prevalent as the result of innumerable discussions
of Fechner's psycho-physical formula. Such is not the opinion of
Mr. Bradley. He holds that not sensations only, but psychical
states generally, have quantity in all manner of respects, are in
principle measurable, and therefore, since degrees not resting on
units are meaningless, do, in some sense, imply the hypothesis
which the above quotation rejects. The argument, which is too
subtle and elaborate for brief reproduction, admirably succeeds in
its professed object of raising doubts. In the exposure of ambigui-
ties, the analysis of aspects, in fact, the whole dialectical 'business*
of discovering and considering difficulties, Mr. Bradley shows his
unrivalled skill : there may be much more to say on the points
noticed, it would be hard to name any point essential to the discus-
sion which has been overlooked. The article is too important to be
passed without comment, especially by psychologists committed to an
opposite theory, who in propositions like the following, ' the idea of
the extended has extension, the idea of the heavy has weight,' etc.,
will no doubt find matter for explosion. On the other hand, the
views which Mr. Bradley recommends would seem to have little
bearing on the actual measurement of states of consciousness, so far,
at least, as they are considered as amounts of psychical existence ;
for here the units, though they must be assumed, cannot probably
be shown. Relativity of strength or amount, distinctions of kinds
and scales — these are the leading ideas, the import of which may be
seen in the confusion which disregard of them has brought into
many a controversy.

An Analysis of Attention. ALEXANDER F. SHAND. Mind, N. S. Ill,

449-473. October, 1894.

The confusion complained of by Mr. Bradley has certainly not
been wanting in the controversy as to the effect on the intensity of
mental states produced by attention. Attention is said to increase

32O ETHICAL.

the strength of sensations and the clearness of ideas, and in general
to be connected with predominance in consciousness of the presented
content ; with which assertions the view that attention is not itself
presentable but a 'special activity* of the subject is sometimes
associated. Mr. Shand denies the necessity of this supposed con-
nection of attention with increased intensity or clearness in the
object : the object may become obscured or even fade out while we
watch it — a remark which seems also to deny that the so-called fluc-
tuations of attention need be fluctuations of attention at all. What
attention really does is to make us more clearly aware of the object,
to make our consciousness of it predominant, or rather, since * atten-
sion' merely expresses the fact 'I am attending/ it is this clearer
awareness. The changed strength of the object is primarily due to
variable concomitants of attention, such as accommodation and
'interest'; attention itself is a distinct process. This process con-
sists in apperceiving a felt content in such sort as to develop a
greater awareness of its systematic complexity. Its earlier stages
actively condition the later ; it also reacts, the duality of conscious-
ness being after all a 'continuum,' on the idea or sensation attended
to, so far, namely, as to make that more active in evoking the
fusion and association necessary to the further understanding of the
object. Thus one element in attention is 'feeling,' immediate
awareness of presentation, the other is 'thought' or interpretation.
And this process, pace Mr. Ward, is as directly felt or experienced
as sensation.

That I am or may become aware of the degrees of my awareness,
and that attention, in the sense defined, is therefore a fact of ex-
perience and not a metaphysical abstraction seems indisputable.
How far, on the other hand, it is rightly said to be directly felt, may
be a question of terminology ; but in asserting this direct feeling of
a distinct process as over against the feeling of what are described
as its concomitants, e. g., the strain of accommodation, etc., Mr.
Shand is virtually engaged in a triangular combat — he opposes not
only Ward, but some to whom Ward is himself opposed.

SMITH COLLEGE. H. N. GARDINER.

ETHICAL.

La Sanction Morale. F. PAULHAN. Revue Philosophique, Mars,
1894, pp. 267-286, and Avril, 1894, pp. 395-419.

According to the author, the Moral Sanction is the logical con-
sequence of responsibility. Responsibility is merely a certain apti-

PS YCHOLOGICAL LITER A TURE. 3 2 I

tude for the sanction. The moral tendency of the first is satisfied
by the second, in much the same manner as the tendency of hunger
is satisfied by the act of eating. To regard a sanction as logical and
moral, implies a logical and moral world perfectly systematized, and
which is realized in our world in proportion as that world is moral
and logical. The consequences of the acts of an individual, which
constitute this moral sanction, may affect the individual himself if
the personality regarded as a whole is responsible, or merely the ten-
dencies which have determined these acts; but always in a way cal-
culated to lead to a more complete systematization of the whole, an
element of which experiences the sanction. The only end and the
only justification of punishment or of reward, the essential elements
of the sanction, are the elimination or prevention of evil, the furth-
erance or the development of the good. Pleasure and pain are
signs of the sanction rather than the sanction itself. Repression of
evil is in itself a sign of disorder; in a perfect world, devoid of evil,
punishment would be wanting and the sanction would consist merely
in the preservation of the organism.

As regards partial and impartial responsibility and the correspond-
ing sanction, inasmuch as there is always a certain solidarity between
the different parts of a moral person, the responsible element can be
reached ordinarily only by acting upon the individual or upon another
element. The more this element is systematically associated with
the individual, the more the sanction applied to the individual will
result in coordinating the elements of the ego, so that they in turn
will exercise their combined influence upon the responsible element,
and consequently the more the reward or punishment of the individ-
ual will be just, and will have the character of a moral sanction.
However, inasmuch as the complete coordination, or total incoordina-
tion of the psychical elements are purely theoretical cases, no sanc-
tion affecting the entire personality is ever applied either with
absolute justice, or absolute injustice.

The general rules of the sanction apply also to the diseased, to
the insane as well as the sane. So far as parts of their minds, some
tendencies, may still afford some degree of coordination, they may
be the object of a moral sanction. In the great majority of cases
the sanction should not be applied to the whole of the personality;
consequently tribunal intervention would be uncalled for. The sanc-
tion applies vigorously to criminals who are called insane only because
they lack altruistic, or moral feelings, provided the coordination of
their acts and feelings is complete and consistent in all other respects.

The sanctions of the social organism are akin to the sanctions of

322 ETHICAL.

the psychical, and the two follow a similar process of development, in
which three distinct stages may be noted. The first and inferior
form of sanction is automatic in character, and arises where the
systematization is but slight; the final form is also automatic, but
superior in this that the systematization is far greater. There is an
intermediary stage of a conscious form of sanction, where prepara-
tion is made simultaneously or successively for the superior automat-
ism. This is accomplished by the growth and synthesis of the new
elements which are to enter into the final stage, and by the coordina-
tion of the acquisitions already made, and also by the more active
intervention of the social ego which has not regularly interposed in
the first stage, and which in the final one is represented by the gen-
eral solidarity of the elements of the system. The sanction is more
perfect in proportion as the good is more simply encouraged and the
evil more simply restrained, and the greater, the precision, without
employing intermediaries merely to apply the sanction. The penal
sanction is therefore indirect and incomplete. The perfect natural
sanction, without intention of reward or punishment, is the best and
highest form. F. Paulhan, in short, regards the moral sanction as a
particular case of natural selection, in the conservation of the good,
and the elimination of the evil. It seems to me, however, that the
conscious feature of the intermediate stage in the development of
the moral sanction from inferior to superior automatism, implies a
voluntary psychical factor which is quite foreign to natural selection.
In this stage would appear reflection, deliberation, conflict of desires,
the various manifestations of moral feeling, etc., all of which must
either be explained away, or their importance unduly minimized if F.
Paulhan's account is to stand. Moreover his designation of sanc-
tions as just, or unjust, introduces ideas whose metaphysical implica-
tions are incompatible with a naturalistic ethic.

Origines et conditions de la moralitd. PIOGER. Revue Philosophique,
Juin, 1894. Pp. 634-656.

The author contends that there is a difference between a theory
of morals and moral practice. The latter antedates the former and
gives form and content to it. The early moral, and religious prac-
tices as well, have preeminently a social character. Even the con-
ception itself of moral good implies the conception of a social good.
Morality is not merely a matter of the intention ; and even if it
were, the intention must be regarded as having very complex ante-
cedents, and as a part of an extended system showing a solidarity
in the act and in the intention, and a still more complex solidarity

PS YCHOLOGICAL LITERA TURE. 323

of act and intention taken together. Morality is rather the product
of sociability, producing social instincts, appearing in the form of
customs, moral practices, and finally a theory of morals. As health
is the harmony of organic functions, morality is the harmonious
manner in which the reciprocal relations of social beings is estab-
lished. Immorality is social disease.

There is no intuitive moral law before experience, for there is
experienced morality before the consciousness of moral law began to
dawn. This is abundantly established by the marked sociability
among animals and an unbroken line of development from the social
instincts of the lowest order of animals to the reflective morality of
the most highly civilized man. Morality is, therefore, the result of
the social and moral evolution of the race. The unconscious soli-
darity of social animals, the morality of the Fuegians and Tasma-
nians, and the advanced morality of our age, all have the common
elements of reciprocity and mutual dependence. Even in the life
of to-day conscious morality is the exception, and automatic, in-
stinctive morality is the rule. Reflection, questionings of con-
science, deliberations of the will, all mark a derangement of the
natural moral functioning. Therefore, since morality is developed,
it is necessary to go to the simplest and earliest forms of its mani-
festation to discern its essential character. Beginnings of morality
emerge in the necessities of hunger, defense, reproduction, etc. ;
this is true also for all social animals. In history morality develops
parallel to social organization. The force of obligation and of
moral sanction lie in the appreciation of the end — conservation
of the species and the race. Intelligence becomes more and more
aware of the necessity and advantage of solidarity. Moral senti-
ments are accounted for, inasmuch as the organic functional charac-
ter of morality is such as to form an integral part of our social
vitality, and cannot be disturbed or inhibited without results dis-
turbing it and the unity of action of all our functions. The genesis
of social conscience arises through a differentiation of the nervous
system especially adapted to the reception of social excitations, as
the sense of sight results from a nervous differentiation especially
adapted to receive luminous vibrations. Morality is conformable to
the same general laws of differentiation, and of coordination, and
adaptation and organization, as our other forms of physiological and
psychological activity.

Dr. Pioger, as it will be seen, takes a point of view similar to
that of F. Paulhan. His article contains also several unwarranted
inferences. While it is true that the lower order of animals, the

324 ETHICAL.

morality of the Fuegians, and that of the most highly civilized peo-
ples, may contain the common element of sociability, still that com-
mon element represents a minimum which is quite inadequate to
express completely the essential features of morality. Prof. Ed-
ward Caird's contention in reference to the evolution of religion has
a similar application to ethic: "that we must read development
backward and not forward, and that we must find the key to the
meaning of the first stage in the last ; for to trace a living being
back to its beginning, and to explain what follows from it by such a
beginning, would be simply to omit almost all that characterizes it,
and then to suppose that in what remains we have the secret of its
existence." While morality may be necessarily concerned with
social relations, it may quite as well give law to qualify and trans-
form these relations, as that these relations should determine wholly
the character of the emerging laws. That moral practices existed
before formulated laws does not prove that the laws were not exist-
ent, implicitly at least ; nor can it be inferred that the laws were
merely a classification or a summation of these practices.

The Method of Idealist Ethics. H. MELLONE. Philosophical Review,
January, 1895. Pp. 47-64.

The most fundamental ethical question is the following : What is
the supreme Ideal of human life ? An answer to this implies an
answer to other questions dependent upon it, — the meaning and sig-
nificance of moral authority ; the ultimate criterion of morality in
conduct, the connotation of the conception of right ; and the proxi-
mate criterion, the denotation of right. The question of there
being an ultimate ideal is an ontological one ; it is the question of
the nature and purpose of the individual life. The ideal is regu-
lative, not in the sense of showing us what is to be done, but that
something must be done. Ideas of the concrete forms of duty come
from sociological and historical studies, which, however, belong
rather to the sphere of practical or applied ethics. In the analysis
of our judgments we find some depending on a standard of truth,
but others depending upon a standard of value. The latter from
two classes ; one, which is formed independently of the will, aesthetic
judgments; the other, are ethical judgments depending on a stand-
ard of right ; that is, on a meaning or purpose in our lives. The
motive which prompts us to seek for standards of value in these three
respects is experienced under the form of feeling. The standard is
felt as an obligatory ideal ; in thought, as an ideal of truth ; in con-
duct and character, of goodness; in (creative) art, of beauty. Natu-

PS YCHOL OGICAL LI TERA TURE. $2$

ralism or Materialism cannot explain these ideals. In them Idealism
finds a key to the nature of the Absolute. Feeling is the fundamen-
tal medium of connection and communication between the individ-
ual and the universal consciousness. Purposive action is feeling-
prompted action. This induces a striving or e/ows in our nature of a
three-fold character, corresponding to the three ideals — truth, good-
ness, beauty. From the individual point of view this striving is
after what is not yet realized, but may be so — what is potentially
ours. From the universal point of view, these feelings, as they tend
to become supreme, constitute a self-surrender to that which is ex-
ternally real. A process in time cannot be the ultimate and most
fundamental fact in the universe. In so far as the absolute is such
a process, or has a history, its essential nature is not manifest.
However, it is necessary to keep firm hold on the reality of the time-
processes of growth and change in the individual lives for which the
ideal may be more or less fully realized. Here we are confronted
with the problem : In what sense is time a reality ? Time or change
is neither an absolute reality nor an absolute unreality. There
must be some via media between them, which makes it possible to
conceive of reality as a multiplicity of individual, finite, growing
lives, immanent in a universal and eternally complete life.

The author's comment at the end is in itself the most appropriate
criticism of the article as a whole: — ''this is not to attain to a full
explanation, but only to begin to see the possibility of one." He is
to be commended for his insistence upon a distinct selfhood of the
individual, however, immanent in the universal life.

JOHN GRIER HIBBEN.
PRINCETON.

PATHOLOGICAL.

On some of the newer Aspects of the Pathology of Insanity. W. L. AND-
RIEZEN. Brain, Part LXVIII, winter 1894.

Owing to many improvements, to which the author himself has
been an active contributor, the silver staining method of Golgi has
been brought sufficiently under control to enable the detailed
anatomy of the central system to be studied by its aid, and to
warrant its application to pathological material.

This paper of one hundred. and fifty pages attempts a statement
of the fundamental plan underlying the arrangements of the nerve
cells in the central system ; the expression of this plan in the cere-
bral cortex ; an examination of the cortex in the vertebrate series,
and by this means the determination of the highly elaborated
arrangement in man, and the separation of those parts which are

326 PA THOLOGICAL.

fundamental from those which have been later added, and which
constitute the important distinctions between this most complex
cortex and that of lower vertebrates.

To all points of the cortex impulses come in over afferent path-
ways and from lower centres, and leave by efferent elements whose
cell-bodies form part of the cortical layer. In this manner all parts
of the cortex, where radiations of sensory pathway are found, become
turning points, at which such incoming impulses are transmuted into
those outgoing. At some of these points, it appears, that sensa-
tions may follow an experimental stimulation of the cortex itself,
even though the stimulus be insufficient to give rise to a well marked
efferent impulse with its associated reactions, and in this we see,
not only a confirmation of common experience, but also warrant for
the inference that in the upper layers of the cortex are to be found
the structures whose activity is accompanied by consciousness. In
confirmation of this general conclusion there is found a greater
differentiation of the outer portion of the cortex in the predomi-
nantly sensory regions — as shown, for example, by the development
of Gennari's stripe in the visual area.

The cortex of man is most different from that of other verte-
brates by reason of the great development of the deepest layers of
cells. All observations point to these cells as concerned in associat-
ing the cortical areas one with another, and we thus have, as con-
trasted with other vertebrates, an unusual anatomical development
in man to be associated with the unusual form of mental activity in
man. Passing on to the application of these facts to disease arising
from disturbances in the cortex, A. finds in cases of alcoholic insan-
ity a degeneration of the dendrons, and even of the cell-bodies of
the larger cells constituting the middle layer in both the Rolandic
and occipital areas, changes which, in the first instance, would
render the passage of the impulses from the incoming fibres to these
cells more difficult ; and in the second, when the cell body itself is
involved, must modify and weaken the subsequent discharge from it,
thus giving a good anatomical basis for the symptoms observed. The
changes just mentioned, however, are extreme, and between cells so
altered, and those in full health, all gradations may be observed.

Throughout the paper the anatomical point of view is that which
has been recently worked out by the more advanced investigations
in this line, and need not be here recapitulated. In the course of
the argument many matters are discussed, but the paper is most im-
portant by reason of the good histological evidence here offered for

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE.

the architecture of the cortex, and most interesting to psychologists
because of the attempt to correlate this architecture with some fun-
damental features of brain activity. H. H. D.

La Psychologic de I* Amour. G. DANVILLE. Paris, Alcan, 1894.
Pp. 169.

M. Danville (the pseudonyme by which a brother of one of our
most distinguished neuro-pathologists conceals his identity), is al-
ready known in France by his stories, and by a curious article pub-
lished in the Revue Philosophique : ' Is love a pathological state ? '
(March, 1893). His present book broaches a question which until
now has never been scientifically treated, although the way has been
cleared by previous works by Stendhal, Balzac, Schopenhauer,
Mantagazza, and Bourget. M. Danville gives us nothing that can be
properly called the psychology of love as founded on observation
and testimony (which would be a very useful work). What he gives
us is a definition of love. Love is (i) a specific, entity-like motive,
distinct from tenderness, sympathy, pleasure, benevolence, etc. ; (2)
subject to exclusive systematization, with consciousness of sexual
desire toward a definite person of the other sex; that is to say, in
less barbarous terms, that real love is monogamous; (3) accompanied
by exaltation of sexual desire. Love is not itself sexual desire, the
latter is only an accompaniment or an effect; (4) it is accompanied
by special mental processes. As a phenomenon of consciousness love
may be described in the following way: It forms in each of us,
by successive perception of those who awake the sexual instinct, a
latent subconscious image which sums up all our preferences; it is
for a man an ideal image of the most perfect woman; it is some-
thing like Galton's composite image, developed in connection with a
particular sense. This image persists through a long time, aided by
any daily attention which it may receive. Every normal adult thus
possesses within him such a subconscious synthesis which is nothing
else than his latent power of loving, to be brought out when any
real being approximates its characteristics closely enough to call it
into activity. It is a curious and, possibly, new theory; and is the
only thing in the book of which as much can be said. A. B.

PARIS.

328 NOTES.

NEW BOOKS.

Substance and Attributes. ANON. London, Kegan Paul, French,

Triibner & Co, 1895. Pp. XV -f 197.
The Foundations of Belief. A. J. BALFOUR. New York, Longmans,

Green & Co., 1895. Pp. VIII + 366.
Gehirn und Seele: Rede des Rectors. P. FLECHSIG. Leipzig, Edel-

mann, 1894.
Dictionnaire de Physiologic. CH. RICHET. Tome I, Fasc. i, A — AH.

Paris, Alcan, 1895. Pp. XII + 336. 8 fr. 50.
The Gospel of Buddha. P. CARUS. Second ed. Chicago, Open

Court Pub. Co., 1895. Pp. XIII + 275.

La vie et la pense'e. T. PIOGER. Paris, Alcan, 1895. Pp. 260.
Introduction to the Theory of Science and Metaphysics. A. RIEHL.

Trans, by A. Fairbanks. London, Kegan Paul, French, Triib-
ner & Co., 1894. Pp. VIII -f 346.
De'ge'ner^'s et Desequibre's. J. DALLEMAGNE. Brussels, Lamertin;

Paris, Alcan, 1895. Pp. 658.
Entartung und Genie : Neue Studien. C. LOMBROSO. (Deutsch von

Kurella). Leipzig, Wigand, 1894. Pp. 308.
Degeneration. MAX NORDAU. New York, Appletons, 1895. Pp.

560.
Thoughts on Religion. G. J. ROMANES. Edited by Charles Gore.

Chicago, the Open Court Pub. Co., 1895. PP- l84- $I-25.
The Philosophy of Lotze : the Doctrine of Thought. H. JONES. New

York, Macmillan & Co., 1895. Pp. XVI + 375.
John Stuart Mill. C. DOUGLASS. Edinburgh and London, Black-
wood & Son, 1895. Pp. XV + 274.

NOTES.

Dr. D. Hack Tuke, the well-known writer on mental diseases and
editor of the Journal of Mental Science, died in London on March 5.
The current issue of the Princeton College Bulletin (Vol. VII, No. i)
is devoted entirely to memorials of the late ex-President James
McCosh. It contains articles by President Patton, Prof. A. F.
West, and Prof. W. Libbey, Jr., a poem by Robert Bridges, a por-
trait, and a useful bibliography of Dr. McCosh's writings (over eight
two-column pages) compiled by J. H. Dulles.

Dr. Ernst Mach, professor of physics in the University of Prague,
has accepted a professorship of philosophy in the University of
Vienna, and will direct a laboratory of experimental psychology.

VOL. II. No. 4. JULY, 1895.

THE PSYCHOLOGICAL REVIEW.

THE PSYCHOLOGY OF PAIN.

BY PROFESSOR C. A. STRONG,

University of Chicago.

The theory of pleasure and pain, so ably advocated by
Mr. Marshall,1 certainly represents a widespread opinion
among the competent in our department. Among its up-
holders are Wundt and Hoffding, Kiilpe and Lehmann, Sully
and Bradley, besides prominent members of this association.2
According to this theory, pleasure and pain are not inde-
pendent mental contents, capable of existing in conscious-
ness alone, but a side or aspect of other contents — a sort of
modification or coloring of sensations and ideas. In Prof.
James's happy phrase, they are « mere manners of experi-
encing ' these other contents. Wherever we feel a pain, there
we have a sensation or idea, distinct from the pain, with
reference to which the pain is felt. Furthermore, we never
have a sensation or idea which is not felt with some degree
of pleasure or pain. So that in every actual state of mind
we are able to distinguish these two sides, the cognitive
and the affective. The affective side of a sensation is called
its feeling-tone, and feeling-tone is conceived as a necessary
attribute, to be classed with quality and intensity.

The following quotations will serve to make the doctrine
clearer. Sully remarks that " pleasure and pain do not occur
as isolated experiences, but in close connection with presen-

1 Pain, Pleasure, and ^Esthetics, London, 1894.

1 Read before the American Psychological Association at its Princeton meeting.

329

330 C. A. STKONG.

tative elements."1 Bradley says: " Without sensation we
never have pleasure or pain. Not a pleasure, but some-
thing pleasant is what we experience. ... If we like to apply
the term aspect, or side, or moment, these are all open to
objection, as metaphors must be. But what they try to say
is that .... pain and pleasure do not exist apart from sensa-
tion, any more than duration or intensity are ever discovered
by themselves."2 And Mr. Marshall holds that pleasure
and pain are " differential qualities of all mental states, of
such nature that one of them must and either of them may,
under their proper conditions, belong to any element of con-
sciousness."3

Mr. Marshall calls this the quale theory of pleasure and
pain, but it seems to me that a more readily intelligible name
would be the aspect theory, and I shall so designate it in
this paper. What I propose to do is to inquire whether this
theory gives a correct account of a single concrete experi-
ence, that of physical pain. And the kind of physical pain
I shall especially consider is pain felt through the skin. But
the whole question suffers from ambiguity. The word pain
signifies not only (i) the feeling we have when the skin is
cut or burnt, that which the Germans call Schmerz ; but also
(2) the feeling of displeasure excited in us by this and other
experiences, that which the Germans call Unlust. Now I
am aware that the aspect theory is primarily a theory of dis-
pleasure. So far as this is so, I am not concerned with it in
this paper. I agree that displeasure is always felt with
reference to a content distinct from itself. But the aspect
theory regards pain as the highest degree of displeasure,
and holds that the pain of a cut or a burn can always be ana-
lysed into a tactile or temperature sensation on the one hand
and a feeling of displeasure on the other. These are the
doctrines I wish especially to examine. That pain usually
calls forth displeasure I do not question ; but that pain is
displeasure, and is always felt with reference to a tactile or
temperature sensation, is what I am inclined to doubt. I

1 The Human Mind, Vol. II, p. 7.

*Mind, No. XLIX, p. 2. Cf. Wundt, Phys. Psych., 3d ed., Vol. I, p. 509 infra.

1 Pain, Pleasure, and ^Esthetics, p. 3.

THE PS YCHOLOG Y OF PAIN. 3 3 1

propose, therefore, to take up the experience of cutaneous
pain, and to look at it first from the neurological and after-
wards from the introspective point of view, with the aim of
ascertaining whether the account of it given by the aspect
theory is correct.

I.

The question of special pain terminations I shall not dis-
cuss; for, now that Goldscheider has withdrawn his former
claims on their behalf,1 there remains little competent testi-
mony to their existence. I pass at once to the important
question of the psychological bearing of the condition known
as analgesia. It has been maintained that this condition
demonstrates the existence of special paths for pain, and so
disposes of the aspect theory : let us inquire how far this is
true.

i. Analgesia, as every one knows, signifies loss of sensi-
bility to pain without necessary loss of tactile or tempera-
ture sensibility. Schiff produced this condition in animals
by sectioning the gray matter of the spinal cord and leaving
the posterior columns of the white matter intact ; though I be-
lieve that physiologists question the rigor of his experiments.
Analgesia occurs at a stage in the action of cocaine on the
skin, and in that of ether or chloroform on the nerve-centres
— the result being that the patient feels the touch of the sur-
geon's knife without feeling the pain of the cut. It also
occurs in certain spinal diseases. In syringo-myelia, for
example, pain and temperature sensations are lost, while
tactile sensations remain normal. In locomotor ataxia, a fre-
quent symptom is analgesia of the legs ; and such patients
often get burns or sores without noticing, or even allow a
fractured bone to go untreated, because they feel no pain.

But the most striking cases occur in hysteria. "Some
women," says Dr. Weir Mitchell,2 "remain for years with-
out the pain sense. In one case of mine a hysterical para-
lytic recovered really useful health, and except herself and

1 Ueber den Schmerz, Berlin, 1894.
* Medical Record, Dec. 24, 1892.

332 C. A. STRONG.

myself no one knows that she cannot be hurt by knife or
fire or a blow. The interior organs still feel pain as usual.
All other forms of skin sense are as keen as ever. This
woman used to hurt or burn herself from want of care ; now
she has learned to take heed. I have seen many such, but
only one other where the general health was as competent.
She doubts now whether she would accept anew the natural
condition of the pain sense."

In the same address Dr. Mitchell mentions a remarkable
case of natural analgesia which deserves to be brought to
the attention of psychologists. It is reported by a Georgia
physician, Dr. Paul Eve, and is that of a man said never to
have known pain. Dr. Eve says he knew the patient per-
sonally, and was for years intimate with his family' physi-
cians, who often spoke of Mr. A.'s peculiar incapacity to
feel pain. Mr. A. was about 56 years old at the time of
his death. He was a corpulent man, weighing about 250
pounds, and had been a free liver. He was a lawyer by pro-
fession, of good intellect, a man of strong mind and body,
and had acquired a considerable reputation as an advocate
and politician. During a political campaign, not liking the
appearance of a finger which had been injured in an affray,
he bit it off himself and spat it upon the ground. He had at
one time an ulcer on a toe which resisted treatment for
nearly three years; he told his physician at the time, and
repeated the statement later, that from first to last it never
gave him any pain. He also had at one time an abscess in
his hand, involving the whole forearm and arm, which be-
came enormously swollen and threatened his life ; the lancet
had to be freely used ; yet during the whole treatment he
said he experienced no pain. He said he felt no pain when
his eyes were operated on for cataract; and Dr. Eve says
he can vouch for his statue-like immobility during the second
operation. Only during his last illness did he complain of
pain for a time, but passed into his usual insensible condi-
tion before he died. "It is proper to say," observes Dr.
Eve, "that Mr. A. was a man of great probity, and never
boasted of being insensible to pain."

2. Analgesia, however, is only one among a number of

THE PS YCHOL OG Y OF PA IN. 333

similar conditions, the so-called partial anaesthesias. Thus
we may have the converse condition of tactile anaesthesia, or
temperature anaesthesia, or both, without analgesia. Schiff
produced this condition in animals by sectioning- the poste-
rior columns of the cord and leaving the gray matter intact.
It is said to be producible by anointing the skin with acetic
or carbolic acid.1 Finally, it occurs in nervous disease.
Hosier2 has recorded the case of a woman with brain dis-
ease whose right side was insensitive to touch, though pain
and temperature sensations remained normal. The prick of
a pin caused distinct pain, yet she did not feel the laying-on
of the entire hand. When a fold of skin was lifted between
the fingers and severely pinched, she was aware of what had
happened through the pain alone. In a case of locomotor
ataxia, also recorded by Hosier, the prick of a pin caused
pain everywhere, yet on the left leg the pressure sense was
so dulled that the patient could not tell the difference be-
tween 100 and 500 grams, nor even feel their weight on the
skin.

3. The facts thus far given seem to justify the conclusion
that the senses of touch and of pain are independent of each
other. But they likewise indicate that the sense of tem-
perature is independent of both. For where pain is lost and
touch retained, temperature is sometimes retained and some-
times lost; and, conversely, where touch is lost and pain
retained, temperature is sometimes retained and sometimes
lost. Indeed, it is probable that the temperature sense must
be divided into a sense of heat and a sense of cold ; for cases
are on record in which cold sensations were lost and heat
sensations retained, and other cases in which heat sensations
were lost and cold sensations retained.3

To sum up : The conclusion generally drawn by patholo-
gists is that the skin possesses four distinct forms of sensi-
bility, namely, touch, cold,' heat and pain, and, that any one
or any combination of these may be lost or impaired without

1 Beaunis, Les Sensations Internes, p. 214.
1 Berliner Klinische Wochenschrift, 1868.
'See Foster, Physiology, 5th ed., Part III, p. noi.

334

C. A. STRONG.

detriment to the rest. The nerve-impulses which awaken
these different kinds of sensation are assumed to pass up-
ward by distinct paths in the spinal cord, and the partial
anaesthesias are explained in an anatomical way by the block-
ing of these paths. Whether this explanation is the true
one we shall see later on.

Let us at present consider how the aspect theorists meet
the facts of partial anaesthesia. They do so in a very sim-
ple manner, namely, by holding that the fourth sense is not
properly a pain sense, but a sense whose normal product is
what Mr. Marshall calls the cutting-pricking sensation, and
that it is the exaggeration of this sensation which gives rise
to pain. What is lost, according to Mr. Marshall, in anal-
gesia is the cutting-pricking sense with its pain-giving
capacity, while the tactile and temperature senses with their
pain-giving capacities remain unimpaired.1

This seems a not unnatural interpretation of the facts.
But when we go on to ask what are the pain-giving capaci-
ties of the tactile and temperature senses alone, the answer is
one of some importance to the aspect theory. For the pain-
giving capacities of these senses alone appear to be practi-
cally zero. The analgesic will endure a violent blow on the
skin, or the contact of ice or of a red-hot iron, without the
slightest trace of discomfort. So that, if the aspect theorist
still holds that tactile and temperature sensations in them-
have an affective coloring, he must at least admit that this
selves coloring never amounts to positive pain.

Observe the consequences of this admission. One of
them is that, when we get a painful burn, and suppose the
pain to be a modification or aspect of the heat, we are under
an illusion. For the pain and the heat are called forth by
separate nerve-fibres. Or when we feel a painful pressure,
and suppose the pain to be an attribute of the pressure, we
are under an illusion. The pain can at most be an attribute
of the cutting-pricking sensation, if we admit its existence.
But what is this cutting-pricking sensation, if we mean by it
the feeling of being cut or pricked ? Is it not a tactile sensa-

1 Pain, Pleasure, and Esthetics, pp. 19, 2O.

THE PS YCHOL OG Y OF PA IN. 335

tion, due to the inevitable stimulation of tactile terminations
which just precedes the prick or the cut ? If Mr. Marshall
refers to anything else, I confess he seems to me to be wil-
fully assuming a new kind of sensation, without sufficient
introspective evidence, for the sake of a theory.

It seems to me (speaking from the point of view of the
aspect theory) that Mr. Marshall would have done well in
this matter had he followed the example of the judicious
Foster, whose doctrine his own so closely parallels. Fos-
ter1 agrees with Goldscheider2 that "we have no evidence
that simple stimulation of the retina, however excessive,
will give rise to pain — meaning by pain the kind of sensation
we feel when the skin is cut or burnt. . . . We have no evi-
dence that an auditory or an olfactory or a gustatory sensa-
tion can, through mere intensity, become converted into a
sensation of pain. . . . We may assume that the pain which
we feel when the finger is cut is a wholly different thing
from the pain which is given to the most delicately musical
ear by even the most horrible discord." And these consid-
erations suggest to Foster that cutaneous pain is not simply
an exaggeration of tactile or temperature sensations, but a
separate sensation developed in a different way. But even
on the assumption that this difference of pain-giving capacity
is not one of kind, but only one of degree, it is surely im-
portant to emphasize the distinction between the senses
which are normally analgesic and those which are not. These
remarks I make hypothetically, from the point of view of
the aspect theory, which for reasons soon to be explained I
am unable to accept.

Goldscheider,3 while agreeing with Foster that sight,
hearing, taste, and smell are analgesic, thinks it unnecessary
to assume a fourth set of cutaneous fibres, and refers cuta-
neous pains to the sense of touch. He believes that the
temperature sense is analgesic, while the sense of touch is
not ; and bases this opinion on the fact that pains can be pro-

1 Physiology, 5th ed., Part IV, pp. 281, 282.
* Ueber den Schmerz, p. 8.
3 Ibid, p. 13.

336 C. A. STRONG.

duced by stimulating the pressure spots but not the heat and
cold spots. How far this view is a necessary inference from
his observations I cannot judge, but there are further facts
of nervous disease which seem to contradict both it and the
view of Foster, and, indeed, to be quite irreconcilable with
the interpretation of the partial anaesthesias thus far given.
I refer, first, to a symptom of locomotor ataxia recently put
forward by One of Prof. Starr's assistants, Dr. Skinner, and
consisting in a hyperalgesia of temperature without accom-
panying hyperalgesia of touch.1

The tests were made by heating or cooling water in a
test-tube and holding the tube against the skin. For warmth
the water was heated to 120° F. (50° C.), for cold it was
cooled to 50° F. (10° C.) — temperatures quite supportable to
a normal nervous system, but productive of pain to these
tabetics. Out of 24 cases examined, the tests showed the
presence of hyperalgesia to both heat and cold in three, and
of hyperalgesia to heat alone in one. In one of the three
cases the symptoms were very marked, the patient starting
and uttering an exclamation of pain when the test-tube was
applied to the skin. In this case there was analgesia of both
legs to pricking and pinching, and the hyperalgesia to tem-
perature was present over the analgesic areas, and over these
areas only. The heat was always recognized as heat and the
cold as cold. In another case there was no disturbance of
cutaneous sensibility except the hyperalgesia to tempera-
ture, and this was greater to cold than to heat — so great, in
fact, that the patient begged to have the test-tube removed
at once, although the temperature of the water was only 58°'
F. (15° C.).

I may remark in passing that this interesting symptom is
not so new as Dr. Skinner supposes. Dr. Bolko Stern men-
tions it distinctly in an article in the Archiv fur Psychiatric
for 1886. He noticed in certain cases a manifest hyperal-
gesia to contact with cold objects, in persons who bore pain-
ful stimuli on normal skin-areas with patience. One woman
started and cried out on being touched with cold vessels

1 Starr, Familiar Forms of Nervous Disease, pp. 173-175.

THE PSYCHOLOGY OF PAIN. 337

which caused no unpleasant sensation to normal persons.
Dr. Stern was, however, unable to discover a clear case of
hyperalgesia to warmth.

Both Dr. Stern and Dr. Skinner mention that ataxic
patients are often very sensitive to cold. Thus Dr. Skinner
mentions a patient who could not dress warmly enough for
comfort, and who kept his room at a temperature of 90° F.
(32° C.), yet still felt chilly all the time; and another who
had felt continual chilliness for five years. These cases seem
to differ only in degree from those of marked hyperalgesia.
They are interesting as bridging the gulf between patholo-
gical and normal sensitiveness to cold.

I am indebted to Dr. Charles W. Burr of Philadelphia for
directing my attention to a second symptom of nervous dis-
ease which, while the converse of the former, seems like it
to show that tactile pains are distinct from temperature
pains. In certain cases of syringo-myelia, the patient's foot
is normally sensitive to pricking and pinching, but totally
analgesic to temperature stimuli such as ice or a hot iron.

Here, then, we have facts which seem to show that the
paths of temperature pains are distinct from those of pains due
to pricking and cutting ; and even that the paths of heat pains
are distinct from those of cpld pains. They likewise seem
to show that temperature pains are more closely bound up
with normal sensations of temperature than would be the
case if pain impulses were conducted by a special set of
fibres. But how can this be reconciled with the apparent
teaching of the partial anaesthesias ?

Possibly it might be by the assumption that these ataxic
temperature pains are a pathological exaggeration of the
mild and harmless affective coloring which the aspect theor-
ist supposes to attend the functioning of the temperature
sense alone. But when we consider that this would oblige
us to explain the pains of the ataxic by one sense of fibres,
and those of the normal person when the test-tube is heated
a few degrees hotter by another set, the explanation appears
somewhat forced and unnatural. We are moved to return to
the partial anaesthesias and attempt a physiological explana-

338 C. A. STRONG.

tion of them, by assuming that tactile and temperature fibres
are each capable of carrying two kinds of impulses, ordinary
impulses and pain impulses, and that either of these capacities
may be lost as a result of disease. But this explanation is
promptly negatived by the experiments (if we may trust
them) of Schiff, which appear to prove that moderate impul-
ses pass upward through the white matter of the cord and
excessive impulses through the gray matter.

An hypothesis in regard to analgesia, which promises to
help us out of our difficulties, was published by Wundt in
the first edition of his Physiologische Psychologic, and has been
repeated in subsequent editions.1 Wundt assumes that in
the peripheral nerves the paths of pain impulses are the same
as those of touch, heat and cold impulses. He sees no
reason for assuming a special pain sense, or a fourth sense
of any kind. But he thinks that, when tactile or tempera-
ture impulses reach the cord, they find two paths open — a
primary path, probably leading through the white matter,
and a secondary path or paths, leading through the gray
matter. Impulses of moderate intensity take the primary
path, and this path can accommodate only moderate impulses.
When excessive impulses come, they overflow into the secon-
dary paths and pass upward thrpugh the gray matter.

This hypothesis, which has the countenance of Funke
and of Goldscheider,2 will be found to explain most of the
above-mentioned facts. Hypnotic analgesia, for instance,
may be due to a temporary, hysterical analgesia to a more
permanent, lowering of the excitability of the gray matter,
the effect being to block the paths. Observe, first, that this
hypothesis provides more or less distinct paths in the gray
matter for tactile pains and for temperature pains. That
these paths should be entirely distinct is not required by
the facts; it would suffice if the two kinds of impulse
entered the gray matter at different points or passed to
different centres, which could undergo lesion separately. Ob-
serve, secondly, that the hypothesis does not exclude the

*3rd ed., Vol. I, pp. 115, 116; 4th ed., Vol. I, pp. in, 112.
8 Ueber den Schmerz, p. ig.

THE PS YCHOLOG Y OF PAIN. 3 39

existence of a fourth cutaneous sense : although it invalidates
the arguments for it drawn from the condition of analgesia.
And, of course, if such a sense be assumed, it is no longer
necessary to distinguish between its pain-giving capacity and
that of the other cutaneous senses; since analgesia is now
explained by the blocking of the excessive impulses which
enter the gray matter, not by the abolition of this fourth
sense.

Finally, it must be admitted that this hypothesis is not
free from difficulties. It requires us to explain the action of
cocaine and that of acetic and carbolic acid on the skin by a
differential paralysis, now of the pain-carrying capacity of
the nerve-fibre, and now of its touch-carrying capacity.
The hypothesis also seems inconsistent with the fact that
pain cannot be produced by stimulating the heat and cold
spots; though, perhaps, it could be produced if enough of
them were stimulated simultaneously. Finally, it ignores
the consideration by which Foster seeks to establish an
analogy between touch and the higher senses, though it is
not inconsistent with the analgesic character of these senses
themselves.

But the question which chiefly concerns 'us is as to the
bearing of all these neurological facts and theories on the
psychology of pain. This may be summed up as follows:

(1) The evidence seems on the whole to indicate that
pain impulses are exaggerations of tactile, heat, and cold im-
pulses, and are conducted inward by the same nerve-fibres;
and this seems favorable to the aspect theory.

(2) The analgesic condition seems to be one of indiffer-
ence, so far as the remaining cutaneous sensations are con-
cerned, and this seems hostile to the aspect theory. The
affective cream seems to be taken cleanly off, leaving a mere
skim-milk of cognition. But this, again, may be disputed,
and it may be claimed that the currents which pass upward
through the gray matter awaken a sensation with a strong
feeling-tone, and that this is now lost; while those which
pass upward through the white matter awaken a sensation
with a weak feeling-tone, and that this still remains.

It seems to me that with this claim we have reached the

340 C. A. STRONG.

limit of what can be learned from neurology. It is evident
that the aspect theory does not stand or fall with the exist-
ence or non-existence of special pain nerves or of special
paths for pain in the spinal cord.

II.

Let us now turn to the introspective analysis of pain, and
inquire whether the aspect theory gives a correct account of
the subjective facts. This theory regards feeling-tone as an
attribute of every sensation, and compares it to intensity.
Is the comparison a just one ? And, in the first place, is
feeling-tone a necessary attribute of every sensation ? A
sensation is unthinkable without both quality and intensity —
it must be a definite kind of sensation, and there must be a
definite amount of that kind. Is a sensation unthinkable
without feeling-tone ? So far is this from being true, that a
large proportion of our ordinary sensations are practically
without it. No doubt most of these are attended with some
minimal degree of feeling, but this is so slight as to be un-
appreciable.

This state of things has been interpreted by the aspect
theorists in two ways :

(1) According to Wundt, these apparently feelingless
sensations do not prove that feeling-tone is not a necessary
property ; they have a feeling-tone, but their feeling-tone is
zero; it is one of indifference.1 This is as if one should say
that every tactile sensation has some temperature quality,
but that when the contact is neither hot nor cold the tem-
perature quality is one of indifference. But temperatures
neither hot nor cold are pure contacts ; and in the same way
sensations neither pleasant nor unpleasant are not sensations
with a feeling-tone of zero, but sensations without any feel-
ing-tone at all.

(2) Other aspect theorists admit this, but hold that there
are no such feelingless sensations, that all sensations have
at least a minimal feeling-tone. To this view I have nothing
whatever to say ; nor do I see how it can be either substan-

1 Physiologische Psychologic, 3rd ed., Vol. I, pp. 290, 508-9.

THE PSYCHOLOGY OF PAIN. 34!

tiated or overthrown by introspection. I will merely add
two remarks: First, that the demand that all sensations
should be accompanied by at least a minimum of pleasure or
pain is a theoretical demand, based on the prior assumption
that feeling-tone is a necessary attribute, analogous to qual-
ity and intensity; secondly, that the recognition of a zero-
point is equivalent to the admission that theoretically this
attribute is not a necessary one.

Let us now pass to the opposite end of the scale, and con-
sider the case of sensations (to use the Wundtian termin-
ology) with a maximal feeling-tone. The aspect theory
holds that in physical pain we always have tactile, tempera-
ture or other sensations present « in painful phase,' ' with a
coloring of pain.' Thus Lehmann says that "a feeling,
whether of pleasure or of pain, never occurs apart from a
sensation however weak, and in every case where such
an isolated feeling is supposed to have been observed, the
sensational element has merely been overlooked."1 And
Kiilpe, in his recent book, says: "The characteristic feature
of pain is not the sensational quality, which is never absent,
whether this be great heat, or strong pressure, or a scream-
ing noise, or a blinding light, but the feeling of the disagree-
able, of which pain is the highest degree."2 Here we have
the orthodox Wundtian doctrine. But elsewhere, after ob-
serving that pain occurs almost solely in connection with
common sensations, Kiilpe goes on to remark that the analy-
sis of these "is rendered difficult by the fact that strong
feelings cover up (yerdecken) sensational qualities they accom-
pany";3 and in another passage he refers to "the well-
known fact that pain usually overpowers (ubertdubf) the
accompanying sensational qualities," and remarks that "if
pressure, heat, or cold is intensified until it becomes painful,
the impression is in all three cases of essentially the same
kind."4 With this we may compare the statement of E. H.

1 Hauptgesetze des menschlichen Gefiihlslebens, p. 33.
1 Grundriss der Psychologic, p. 93.
* Ibid., p. 152.
4 Ibid., p. 327.

342 C. A. STRONG.

Weber that "the pain produced by heat or cold is very
different from the sensation of heat or cold. If the pain is
not extreme, we feel at the same time the heat or cold which
causes it, and can then distinguish pain due to heat from
pain due to cold. But if it is extreme, the sensation is
the same, whether caused by heat or cold."1 Or, as Prof.
James tersely expresses it, " heat, cold, and pressure are in-
distinguishable when extreme — we only feel the pain."2

If we attempt to render these familiar facts in Wundtian
phraseology, we can do so only by saying that in extreme
physical pain the feeling-tone has become so excessive as to
overpower and cover up the quality and intensity of the sen-
sation. We appear to have left a sensation with an intense
feeling-tone, but without any quality or intensity. And yet
these three are supposed to be necessary attributes of every
sensation. I know Kiilpe insists that the sensational quality
is never absent, but this directly contradicts his state-
ment that it is overpowered by the pain, and that pain
caused by pressure, heat, and cold have the same quality.
Indeed, he is himself more or less conscious of the contra-
diction, for he follows up the statement last referred to with
the words : " Here we are of course conceiving pain not as
feeling-tone, but as a peculiar quality of sensation."3 And
elsewhere he refers to the possibility that "we have to re-
cognize in pain, apart from the displeasure ( Unlust) therein
contained, a special class of sensation, called forth by the
intense stimulation of every sensory nerve."4

Now this, it seems to me, is the only doctrine which ac-
curately reflects the facts, and it is incompatible with the
aspect theory, which classes feeling-tone with intensity.
This classification is illegitimate, because at the bottom of
the scale we have quality and intensity without any feeling-
tone, or with next to no feeling-tone, while at the top of the
scale we have feeling-tone in great intensity, but no quality.

1 Tastsinn und Gemeingefiihl, p. 1 1 8.

* Briefer Course, p. 68.

* Grundriss der Psychologic, p. 327.

* Ibid., p. 248.

THE PSYCHOLOGY OF PAIN. 343

In other words, what the aspect theorist calls feeling-tone is
in reality a kind of quality. As the quality of warmth becomes
intense it becomes mixed with the quality of pain, and when the
pain is extreme there is no warmth left. Only in the inter-
mediate sensations is it possible to draw a distinction be-
tween a cognitive and an affective side of the experience ; at
one extreme all is cognition, at the other all is feeling.
And throughout the scale there is an opposition between the
two sides, such that one can predominate only at the expense
of the other. Thus Sully tells us that "the affective and
the cognitive element do not appear with equal prominence
in our sensational and ideational experience " ; that in organic
sensation and emotion the affective preponderates over the
presentative, while in visual perception and ordinary thought
the presentative preponderates over the affective.1 Is such
an opposition conceivable between the quality and the inten-
sity of a sensation? Can the intensity of a sensation cover
up and conceal the quality? No more than the breadth of a
smile can conceal the face. The quality and the intensity
are given with equal prominence, because they are only two
different ways of classifying a single unique content. Indeed,
so pregnant a fact is this opposition between cognition and
feeling, that, if the extremes of indifference and pure pain
were not to be met with in experience, this opposition would
alone suffice to prove the incorrectness of the theory which
classes feeling-tone with intensity.

The aspect theorist may be said to make the same mis-
take as a person who, viewing the series of colors between
red and yellow, should describe the yellow apparently visi-
ble in orange as a sort of tone, and the red visible in it as the
sensational basis to which this tone was attached. The
phrase hedonic coloring proves nothing, but it shows how
well the facts would lend themselves to a sensational inter-
pretation.

To make my doctrine perfectly unambiguous, I must dis-
tinguish between cases where the mingled qualities are due
to different nerve-fibres, and cases where they are due to

1 The Human Mind, Vol. II, pp. 10, n.

344 C- A- STRONG.

the same nerve-fibre. It is quite probable, even on our
theory of the partial anaesthesias, that in the experience of
a painful burn the pain is due to different nerve-fibres from
the heat. For it is reasonable to suppose that the area of
skin actually burnt is surrounded by a margin in which only
heat impulses are produced. At the same time, it can hardly
be doubted that in cases of moderate pain both the pain
and the heat may be due to the same nerve-fibre. Let us
suppose a fibre or a set of fibres to be stimulated with such
intensity as to cause slight pain, yet not so intensely as to
obscure the normal quality of heat. Now, to determine the
relation between the heat and the pain in cases like this is,
of course, the strict object of this paper. And I submit that
this sensation of painful heat is to be conceived as a mixture
of two co-ordinate qualities, heat and pain. When I say a
mixture, I do not mean to imply a composite character in the
sensation itself, any more than the taste of lemonade is com-
posite. But, just as the taste of lemonade resembles that of
lemon-juice on the one hand and that of sugar on the other,
so the sensation of painful heat resembles the pure quality of
heat on the one hand and the pure quality of pain on the
other.

My conclusion is, then, that pain is as distinctly the con-
tent of certain cutaneous sensations as blue of certain vis-
ual ones. It seems to me that Bain is right in classing
hunger, thirst, nausea, fatigue, and pain with sensations;1
that Delbceuf is right when he says that " fatigue and sensa-
tion are phenomena of the same nature and comparable to each
other"2; that Miinsterberg is right when he says that " sen-
sible pleasure and pain are not extreme degrees of the agree-
able and the disagreeable, but sensations, which regularly
call forth strong feelings of the agreeable and the disagree-
able"3; and that Dr. Nichols is right in so far as he places
physical pleasure and pain "on a common footing with our
other senses as fundamental elements of mind."4

1 The Senses and the Intellect, pp. 102, 103.

* Jile'mjnts de Psychophysique, p. 46.
8 Beitrage, Heft IV, pp. 216, 217.

* Philosophical Review, Vol. I, p. 404.

THE PSYCHOLOGY OF PAIN. 345

Or my conclusion may be briefly expressed in the follow-
ing form. If a new-born babe were subjected through all
its senses to stimulations of excessive intensity for the space
of an hour, the sole content of its consciousness during that
time would be the feeling of pain, nor would this feeling have
any connection with or reference to cognitive states what-
ever.

III.

In conclusion I will reply to an objection and indicate two
consequences.

I am sure some of my hearers will be inclined to admit
that pain is an independent mental content, not necessarily
attached to any other element of consciousness, but yet will
deny that it is on that account to be classified with sensations.
They will say that in this classification an important char-
acter of pain has been overlooked, one which differentiates
it totally from the states we call sensations. Sensations,
that is to say, are projected outside the body and elaborated
into perceptions of objects, of which they then appear as the
qualities; whereas pain is not thus projected or elaborated,
but remains throughout a purely subjective state.

It is perfectly true that pain is a subjective state in this
sense. But be it observed that such elaboration into objects
is a subsequent operation, performed upon the sensation as
it were from without, and not necessarily implying an essen-
tial difference between it and the feeling of pain simply as
mental elements, apart from their differing fate in this re-
spect. The considerations already brought forward suffice
to prove that originally and in themselves feelings of pain
and ordinary sensations are of the same nature. For both
are called forth by nerve-currents from without; and both
are substantive mental contents, capable of existing in con-
sciousness alone, though commonly present together. The
only difference between them is that sensations are found in
experience to vary with their stimuli, and therefore to fur-
nish information about the stimuli, whereas feelings of pain
do not so vary, and therefore tell us only of ourselves.
Bradley puts the matter clearly and forcibly when he says:

346 C. A. STRONG.

"Like sensations they [pleasure and pain], are at first
neither objective nor subjective. . . . That pleasure or
pain, as they come first, have, in any sense whatever, a refer-
ence to the Ego is a fundamental error. It takes the pro-
ducts of development and places them at the starting-point,
where no Ego . . . exists except in false theory."1 And I
could match this passage with another from Prof. Wundt.2
The same point may also be stated in the following way.
Feelings of temperature are sometimes due, not to external
objects, nor even to the contact of the surrounding air, but
to the state of the circulation, to the increased or diminished
development of animal heat. If they were always due to
this cause, if they varied as little with the stimulus and as
much with the organ as do feelings of pain, we should ac-
count heat and cold no less subjective than we now account
pain.

I pass to the two consequences.

(1) It is often said that pleasure and pain are not localized,
but that what is localized is the sensations they accompany.3
But we have seen that often there are no such accompanying
sensations, and yet we know that the pain is localized.
When I burn my finger, it is not merely the heat sensation
that is localized there, it is the pain as well. A person
whose hand is stimulated behind a screen may not be able to
distinguish the pain of a burn from that of a cut, but he feels
the pain in his hand.

(2) It is often said that we cannot have images of pleas-
ure or pain, or that, if we do imagine them, we actually be-
gin to feel these states anew.4 It seems to me that, so far
as this statement is true, it applies to other images as much
as to images of pain. The theory that images have a per-
manent identity and recur, instead of being re-created, may
be said to have received its deathblow. If images of pain
are faint and unreal, the same is the case with images of
taste and smell. I will not assert with Hume that images

1 Mind, No. XLIX, p. 2.

2 Vorlesungen ilber Menschen und Thierseele, 2nd ed., p. 226 infra.
8 Sully, The Human Mind, Vol. II, p. 7 infra.

* Marshall, Pain, Pleasure and ^Esthetics, pp. 29, 30.

THE PSYCHOLOGY OF PAIN. 347

are merely weakened sensations ; but I do assert that what-
ever is true of images generally is true of images of pain.

Finally, let me repeat that my criticisms are directed, not
against the aspect theory as a theory of displeasure, but
against the aspect theorists' analysis of physical pain. I
hold that physical pain is not a compound of an indifferent
sensation with a feeling of displeasure, but itself a sensation
which calls forth displeasure.

EXPERIMENTAL INDUCTION OF AUTOMATIC
PROCESSES.1

BY PROFESSOR W. R. NEWBOLD,

University of Pennsylvania.

That processes analogous to those that normally accom-
pany consciousness do at least sometimes take place in con-
nection with a human brain, without being represented in
the consciousness properly belonging to that brain, is now
generally admitted ; but the full import of the admission to
psychology is not clearly understood. In the first place, it
is not certain whether these processes are accompanied by
consciousness or not. If not, we must suppose that the cor-
tical process, as such, is not alone sufficient to produce a
mental state, but needs the cooperation of some other factor.
This hypothesis bears too much resemblance to the old soul
theory to meet with favor in contemporary psychology, and
we find that most writers claim that these dissociated pro-
cesses are accompanied by true conscious states, which are
related to the complex of similar states that constitutes the
personal consciousness of the individual much as the con-
sciousness of some other person is related to it. Further-
more, it is supposed that these 'parasitic states' are subject
to precisely the same laws as those that govern the ordinary
' upper consciousness ' of the individual in question. They
may develop, take to themselves associative helpmeets, and
finally form a subconscious dream, which may persist for a
considerable time and produce sundry disagreeable phe-
nomena in the consciousness of its involuntary host. In
extreme cases the mental parasite may become so complex
and highly organized as to constitute a true ' secondary per-
sonality' in all respects analogous to the original or upper
personality ; and it may at times displace the upper person-

1 Read at the Princeton meeting of the American Psychological Association.
348

EXPERIMENTAL IND UCTION OF A UTOMA TIC PROCESSES. 349

ality and assume temporary control of the motor system,
thus becoming manifest to other persons. Pierre Janet, who
has developed this doctrine more consistently than any one
else with whom I am acquainted, regards such parasitic idea
systems as essentially pathological phenomena. But a some-
what analogous conception is being developed among those
interested in ' psychical research,' according to which all
thoughts, memories, hopes and fears which have been dis-
missed from the upper consciousness still exist in conscious
form, and even organized into a self-conscious being in what
is termed 'the subliminal self,' — and some think that the
' subliminal self ' is sensitive to influences which are lost
upon the normal consciousness.

Among the phenomena frequently ascribed to such sub-
conscious automatism are the ' phantasms of the glass* and
automatic or « spirit' writing-phenomena of which the 'pro-
fessional psychologist' usually knows less than he should.
Indeed, so far as I know, no professional psychologist has
made any study of the phantasm of the glass from the purely
psychological point of view, and but little has been done
with automatic writing. I have been conducting some rather
desultory experiments in these lines for the past two years,
and, although the results are not sufficiently exact for pur-
poses of computation, they have raised in my mind no little
doubt as to their supposedly subconscious origin.

Let us first examine the phantasm of the glass. It has
been known since the dawn of history — and no one can say
how long before — that certain individuals, while looking into
a transparent or reflecting medium, see therein hallucinatory
scenes and figures which were supposed to emanate from the
unseen world of spirit. From the Urim and Thummim of the
Jewish highpriest to the 'Crystal' of Dr. Dee, we find this
belief among all ages and peoples. Within the last few
years the Society for Psychical Research has undertaken to
look into this ancient superstition and see whether it be
based upon any residuum of fact.

Those who believe in the existence of conscious states
dissociated from the normal upper consciousness of the indi-
vidual, are inclined to regard the phantasm of the glass as

350 W. R. NEWBOLD,

the product of subconscious automatism, brought by the
transparent medium within the ken of the upper conscious-
ness ; and it cannot be denied that many cases are on record
which would seem to point to some such origin. But in my
own series of experiments I found no reason to make this
assumption. I commonly used in my experiments a glass
ball made for the purpose, but I found that a glass of water
or a small mirror reflecting a white surface answered the
purpose quite as well. Such a medium gives the patient a
vision of unfilled space, and its function appears to be simply
that of an irritant to the highly organized visual mechan-
ism. This seems borne out by the fact that the phantasm is
more likely to appear when the medium is well illuminated.
Usually some interval elapses before any effect is produced.
In a few cases the phantasm was seen upon the first glance
into the medium ; more commonly one must wait from five
seconds to five minutes. In one case the image appeared
after the lapse of twenty minutes. The first symptoms of a
response on the part of the central visual mechanism to the
exciting stimulus are frequently found in the appearance of
visual sensations of a rather indeterminate character. The
medium becomes opaque, being apparently filled with smoky
or milky masses ; sometimes small masses of white, like
minute clouds, drift rapidly through it. At other times
these prodromal phenomena take the form of flushes of color
— red, blue or yellow. More seldom yet, the medium seems
to become more brilliantly illuminated just before the phan-
tasm emerges. The phantasm sometimes appears suddenly,
but more often is slowly developed out of some of the sense
material already present. The cloud-masses take definite
shape and then become colored, or the vague blur or spot
becomes a nucleus upon which the image develops. One
of my subjects, a young girl who visualized well, described
it in naive fashion: "You see," said she, "the gray spot
seems to sink down to the bottom of the glass and turns
and whirls about slowly ; then, of course, it has to be-
come something." "But," said I, who do not visualize
at all, "why must it become something?" "Well," she
said, "of course it could not possibly stay a spot; it has to

EXPERIMENTAL IND UCTION OF A UTOMA TIC PROCESSES. 3 5 I

become something clear or else go out." When there are
no indeterminate prodromal phenomena the phantasm some-
times develops out of the reflections on the surface of the
glass, but more commonly the reflections interfere with its
development, as do all other sensory distractions.

In the case of good * seers,' the prodromal phenomena
appear within five or ten seconds, and the image is fully de-
veloped within a minute or two. It is usually brilliantly
colored and resembles a minute picture. Sometimes it is
indistinct, sometimes the outline is distinct but lacks color-
ing. Occasionally the picture is perfectly clear and bril-
liantly colored, but is imperfect. One of my subjects, for
example, saw a portion of the full-page cartoon in a recent
number of Puck, representing the American school system in
the clutches of the Popish tiger. The head, forequarters
and forepaws of the tiger and a part of his victim were per-
fectly clear, but the hindquarters were altogether lacking.
This patient was a good visualizer, and I asked him to exter-
nalize the remainder of the picture and unite it to the image
in the glass, but he could not. He said the phantasm had a
vividness and externality which images voluntarily external-
ized never attained. The duration of the image varies, but
seems to bear some relation to the length of time it took to
produce it. Generally it lasts but a few seconds, but I have
seen cases in which it lasted several minutes.

The images are often drawn from the subject's recent
visual experience but are often unrecognized. Many of the
latter are purely imaginary, but some are doubtless forgot-
ten memories. In one case I found that I could revive
memory by hypnotizing the patient and asking him to re-
member. Once he saw in the glass the face of a young girl
which he described in detail. He had never seen her before,
he said. Next came a little dog, which he remembered hav-
ing seen that day in a country postoffice ; it came in with its
mistress. He could not describe the mistress — he had not
seen her face clearly — but was quite sure she was not the
woman he had seen in the glass ; she was much older.
When hypnotized and told to describe the dog's mistress, he
described the face he had just seen, and remembered that he

352 W. R. NEWS OLD.

had caught a glimpse of her face as she passed him. At an-
other time he saw a bust of some white material, but it had
no pedestal or other surroundings, and he could not remem-
ber where he had seen it. When hypnotized he described
the pedestal, the stuccoed wall behind it, the wooden floor
upon which the pedestal stood, and himself standing before
it; but further than this the picture would not develop.

Often the successive images seem to have no relation to
one another. When they are related, however, it is nearly
always by the law of similarity, seldom, as in the case above
quoted, by contiguity. Sometimes it seems as if certain
elements in an image persisted and formed the nucleus upon
which the new image took shape, thus making it seem as if
the images melted into one another. This bears heavily
against those who claim that similarity is an ultimate law,
and is analogous to the case reported by Mr. Galton in his
Inquiries into Human Faculty.

The relation of the phantasm to simultaneous sensory
states also goes to show that it is a temporary creation and
is not the product of independent subconscious processes.
Usually it is most intimately related to the sensations which
collectively constitute the medium. The least movement of
the medium tends to destroy it. The introduction of any
visual sensations other than those proceeding from the me-
dium usually destroys it. Magnifying the medium usually
destroys it. Upon closing the eyes it is usually not seen;
when the eyes are again opened it either has disappeared or
is more or less faded. Such phenomena go to show that the
phantasm is a mere illusion, constructed upon the sensory
basis furnished by the medium. Sometimes, however, it
seems to attain a degree of independence which would lend
color to the notion that it has been subconsciously origin-
ated. I have sometimes found that, when once fully devel-
oped, it persisted when the eyes were closed, and even after
the removal of the medium. With one subject it proved so
durable that he was able to project it upon a sheet of white
paper and trace its outlines. But voluntarily externalized
images and after-images sometimes prove as permanent, and
no one will claim for them a subconscious origin.

EXPERIMEN TA L IND UC TION OF AU TO MA TIC PR 0 CESSE S. 353

Like most hallucinations, the phantasm of the glass is
quite independent of the idea-trains of the upper conscious-
ness. Suggestion in the waking state seldom affects it,
although it is readily amenable to hypnotic suggestion. In
one case only have I found it capable of being affected by
voluntary effort. One of my patients told me that while
experimenting at home alone he heard the whistle of a loco-
motive. He forthwith fell to wishing that the locomotive
would appear in the glass, and in a few moments it did.
The smokestack, upper part of the boiler and a part of the
tender appeared, but the picture remained incomplete, and
by no amount of wishing could he force it to develop further.

Mr. F. W. H. Myers has called attention to the very
interesting fact that if a story be related to a hypnotized
patient, and it be suggested that he will see it in the glass, it
will appear and be acted out in dramatic form. Many of my
readers will remember that Mr. Myers gave illustrations of
this before the International Congress in London three
years ago. It occurred to me that it would be interesting
to show that the glass would bring such a tale to light with-
out any direct suggestion, and I tried to do it with a patient
named Tom. He is a very ignorant man, but a good hyp-
notic subject. The experiment gave only negative results.
He looked steadily for some time and saw nothing. I then
asked, 'Don't you see so and so?' mentioning the first
item of the scene he was to see. This slight suggestion
proved sufficient and he saw the whole story acted out. I
then hypnotized him again and said, " Tom, do you remem-
ber the old Greek story — how the giants piled one moun-
tain on another and climbed up to heaven to pull the old god
down from his throne?" Tom did not remember. I then
bade him look in the glass, and he began to describe the
event as he saw it, while I took his words down. He spoke
slowly, with frequent pauses, and often moved his head or
the medium about as if to get a better view. " It seems like
there were some men in there — big giants or something —
not very plain what they are — they've got little crowns on,
olden style — got on long night-shirts, not very long, sort of
cut short, you know, sort of lightish color — there are four

354 W. R. NEWBOLD.

of them — they're moving — piling stuff up — can't tell what it
is; guess it's rocks or stuff — whole lot of rocks; they're pil-
ing it up in the air — keep building and building up higher
like — guess they're trying to reach as high as they can get.
Pretty near as high as they can go now — they've got weap-
ons with them, spears and such. Guess they're building a
mountain on a mountain — away up now in the clouds.
There's somebody else up there — some other man, I guess —
looks as if they'd got hold of him and were pulling him off a
throne or something. That's all I can see now." (I ask
what the old man looks like,) " Dressed like wearing a pair
of short pants with tights around his loins — breastplates on
him, looks if he were a king or something. Don't see the fel-
low they pulled off — they are still there and have spears and
weapons. Now they're gone too — pile of rocks is still there
— now it's going too — it's all gone. Glass is clear." While
telling this story the patient seemed to be in a hypnotic con-
dition, as he commonly is while performing a posthypnotic
suggestion, but was not suggestible after finishing, nor did
he fall asleep as usual. If we could show that the glass
tends to externalize suggestions given in hypnosis, it would
go to show that there is some organic relation between the
realms of consciousness laid bare in hypnosis and those
reached by the glass. But at present I see no reason for
assuming that there are any such realms existing perma-
nently and subconsciously in all individuals. It is more con-
gruent with the facts to suppose that we are dealing with
more or less dissociated mental elements, between which
there may be relation whatever, unless we ' set the switches '
by suggestion and thus create one.

One would suppose, from a priori considerations, that
the good visualizer would be more likely to see these images
than others, and, so far as my facts go, this would seem to
be the case. I tried 86 persons and got phantasms in 22
cases. Twenty of the 22 were young girls, and all were
good visuaiizers. It would then appear that young girls
who visualize well are the best < seers.' But, on the other
hand, 46 of my 86 patients were young girls under 22 years
of age, pupils in a school where I was lecturing ; and of the

EXPERIMENTAL IND UCTION OF A UTOMA TIC PROCESSES. 355

remaining 40 not a half-dozen were above 30. Moreover,
having early found an apparent relation between visualizing
and « crystal-vision,' I took pains to experiment with all the
good visualizers I could find. Upon such selected material
one can base no generalizations.

Before turning to other types of automatism, I will quote
from my note-book two typical series of phantasms.

Miss E., age 20, well educated girl of a quiet and retir-
ing disposition. Good visualizer. Has had visual hallu-
cinations while in apparently good health. Begins looking
in the glass at 9.13 A. M. [Figures indicate interval between
entries.] In two minutes 50", glass grows smoky ; 2' 40",
the smoke is forming into something; cannot make out what
it is; 30", the thing is moving around but does not settle
into anything; i' 30", it has become a little brownie, peaked
•cap and usual costume; is running; the legs move but the
figure does not move from its place in the glass; 45", it is
gone; glass is still cloudy; 15", looks very like the Coli-
seum ; 20", it is the Coliseum, but there is a little door below
which she never noticed before; 10", something else is com-
ing; "What can it be?" she says; 'it looks like an animal
and also like a human being;' 30", it is a little old man with
a great red nose. The Coliseum is still partly visible ; the
old man has long nose, sharp eyes, thin neck ; 40", the old
man has disappeared, the glass is still smoky, the Coliseum
still dimly visible in outline. What now, an alligator? No,
not that; 10", the old man back again; he looks younger
now, but it is the same man ; 30", seems to be winking, his
brows seem to go up and down ; 15", he seems to be turning
around and looking the other way; 10", he is gone; 5",
there he is again; 15", he is still looking the other way.
She has never seen him ; 30", he simply won't go away, she
says; 10", now he looks quite different, his nose is smaller
and thinner, he has a helmet on his head, a determined look-
ing man; looks like an ancient Roman; i' 20", he is still
there; 10", I told her to shut her eyes; kept them closed
five seconds; she saw nothing while they were closed, but
the image was unchanged when she opened them again ; 10",
he is gone at last; 35", " There he comes again," said she;

356 W. R. NEWBOLD.

" Oh, dear, dear, I wish he would go away;" 20", he has
turned into a bear; 10", and now the bear has turned into a
monkey; 10", the image has entirely gone. All these ima-
ges, she says, had the same eyes. Thirty seconds, "That
dreadful looking man is coming back again"; 30", no, it is
another man, white robe, very large, smiling, costume like a
monk's, not a Roman's; 30", the head has faded out, the
figure still there ; when she moves her head it also seems to
move. I put a black fountain pen between her eye and the
object; it had no effect; i', all is gone except the milky or
cloudy effect; 25", a beautiful streak of blue appears; 10'', it
is passing into a yellow; 10", the colors are gone; 3", now
the color of heliotrope comes; 8", it is becoming a rainbow,
over the beauty of which she becomes enthusiastic; 24", a
window appears, a window-sill seat, interior view of a room,
bookcases all around; 50", it is gone; 20", < Oh, what is
that trying to do?' 15", 'I can't see what it is; the cloud
moves into different shapes;' 45", three dice appear; she
sees the three and the five; cannot see the others. Stopped.
Entire time, 23 minutes; no perceptible after-effect. Upon
questioning her as to the source of the images, she- said that
she had been in Rome once, when about twelve years old.
Had not been recently thinking or reading about kindred
subjects. The old man, she thought, looked like one of
Dickens' characters, but could not specify which one.

The only other case which I shall quote is that of Miss
L., 1 8 years of age, an excitable girl, somewhat subject to
slight hysterical attacks. Was in good health.

In three minutes 30" sees a field, blue grass, stretching
away off; gets pink by the horizon; there is a cloud on
the grass, the cloud is getting pink; a face is coming out
of the cloud; i' 25", sees a figure to the face, gauzy
drapery, pinkish near the cloud; cloud and drapery are
the same; 35", sky is blue; something or other is shin-
ing on the figure; cannot tell whether it is the sun or
the moon; the hair of the figure is a bluish red, beautiful
color; 30", "The clouds are rolling, and the beautiful wo-
man seems to be rolling on too ; she is holding something
which looks like two strings ; " 7", she thinks it is developing

EXPERIMENTAL IND UCTION OF A UTOMA TIC PROCESSES.

into Guide's Aurora; 23", sees one of the horses; there is
only harness where the other horse should be; sees box of
chariot but no wheels; i', there is something there which
she thinks is a Cupid's head, but cannot see it clearly; 25",
the other horse is visible ; the picture is complete except the
« Graces ; ' they are not there ; the sun seems to be moving
along; 50", two or three Cupids appear; they are sitting on
the chariot and elsewhere; 45", the unfinished picture is
turning very red, it is becoming a high brick wall; the
luminous body, whether sun or moon, is still there, but the
rest is gone except the wall; 20", there seems to be a win-
dow in the wall; a beautiful girl is looking out; she has the
same head and face that 'Aurora,' i. e., Apollo, had; her
hair is growing longer and longer; i' 5", there seems to be
a figure on the ground, it is a greyish-blue ; 20", seems to
be playing on harp ; sees only the head, arms and harp ; the
rest is cloudy; 25", the clouds are becoming drapery; 10",
there are hills around and the sun is coming over the hills;
28", the instrument seems to be something between a violin
and a harp; 12", the man has a red suit, a sixteenth century
cape at back ; 40", half the field seems to be covered with
her hair, which grows and grows ; the man is wound up in
it; 20", the wall is gone; there seems to be only a sea of
hair or water; 20", the sun is still rising, it has been there
all the time (probably a reflection) ; 40", the hair is blue ; it
looks like the ocean ; 30", there seems to be something on
the water; it looks like a shell; 30", there seems to be a
yellow head and a crown on the shell, eyes closed, the
mouth opens; 45", the hair comes again; it is red, short,
crimped; the tongue sticks out; it is two yards long; 45",
there is a shore tp the right; the tongue reaches to the
shore, like a suspension bridge; the head slides along the
tongue to the shore; 45", the patient inadvertently took her
eyes from the glass, and upon looking back the phantasm
was entirely gone.

That auditory hallucinations in every way analogous to
the phantasm of the glass may be produced by the applica-
tion of a continuous but indeterminate stimulus to the organ
is, of course, a familiar fact. Not long ago, for example, a

358 W. R. NEWBOLD.

paranoiac was treated in the University Hospital who com-
plained of a continuous hissing sound, which from time to
time was transformed into abusive language. The noise
was found to be due to a chronic inflammation of the inner
ear • this had served as the sensory basis for the hallucination.
A young woman, who has had several auditory hallucinations
occurring apparently spontaneously, tells me that the sound
of water running from a spigot always induces auditory hal-
lucinations of precisely the same character as those above
described in the case of vision, and they are often accom-
panied by appropriate visual pictures of the pseudo-hallu-
cinatory order. Mr. Myers reports similar hallucinations
produced by listening to the 'sound of the waves' in a large
shell.

It is, however, in the phenomena of automatic writing
that the most interesting illustrations of these principles are
to be found. Automatic script is usually regarded as afford-
ing evidence of the existence of preformed, subconscious
idea-systems which thus seek expression, and for a long time
this was my own view. But I am now convinced that in
many cases the writing is produced precisely as these sen-
sory processes are produced — by the continuous application
of an indeterminate stimulus to the highly organized writ-
ing mechanism. It is, then, essentially a purely motor phe-
nomenon.

I was first led to this view by the study of a remarkably
interesting case which was brought to my attention about a
year ago. The patient, whom I shall call A. B., was an
educated man, who had some knowledge of psychology and
was acquainted with the conception of mental automatism.
He was sitting one evening around a table with some friends,
one of whom was supposed to be ' mediumistic,' to see
whether rappings and levitation of the table could be had.
Suddenly his left arm was drawn violently down ; in a few
moments the motor disturbance was transferred to the right
arm. Pencil and paper were procured and the hand made
desperate efforts to write. Much violence was displayed,
the hand being pounded upon the table so furiously as to
bruise the fingers and snap pencil after pencil. Nothing

EXPERIMENTAL IND UCTIQN OF A UTOMA TIC PROCESSES. 359

legible was written. The case was brought to my notice in
its early stages, and I had the opportunity of watching its
later development. The violence at first displayed gradually
disappeared. The hand learned to print and then to write a
legible script, much resembling that of the patient. The
content of the writing always professed to come from the
patient's deceased friends — a claim which was readily dis-
proved to the complete satisfaction of the patient himself.
To him the hand seemed to be moved by some power not
his own, yet he could at any time control it. The thoughts
bore a marked resemblance to his own, but were not con-
sciously furnished by him. He said it seemed to him as if
he were watching another person write ; often he would cor-
rectly anticipate the words to follow, but quite as often they
would prove other than he had expected. At first B. him-
self believed that his dabbling in spiritism had started into
activity a mass of subconscious idea-trains which had suc-
ceeded at the seance in bursting out into the motor mechan-
ism. He was naturally not a little alarmed, and the further
progress of his case did not tend to reassure him. The con-
tracture of the right arm which always preceded the writing
became easier to produce, and finally showed a tendency to
appear spontaneously. At times he found it difficult to re-
sist. Similar contractures appeared in the muscles of the
left arm, of the legs, and finally of the face. By this time a
general motor hysteria was produced. At the same time
automatic sensory symptoms made their appearance in a
manner that should delight the hearts of all who believe
with Prof. Baldwin in the natural dependence of the sensory
system upon the motor. Automatic idea-trains held con-
verse with the patient at all times, seasonable and unseason-
able ; flashes of brilliant white light were occasionally seen
while falling asleep, and the motor excitement rose to such
a point that the patient escaped a hystero-epileptic convul-
sion only by two hours of strenuous resistance, followed by a
timely dose of assafcetida. Throughout the patient believed
himself to be struggling, like the possessed of old, with a
secondary personality which was striving to overmaster his
upper self.

360 W. R. NEW BOLD.

This interpretation of the facts I believe to be entirely
erroneous. They can be explained in a much more simple
fashion. The original invasion might well have been a fatigue
convulsion, due to the fact that the patient had for a long time
held his hands outstretched upon the table. I have fre-
quently seen contractures and convulsions produced, under
such circumstances, although not as violent as those of the
patient are said to have been. The continuous but inde-
terminate stimulus applied to the centres — probably the sub-
cortical centres of reinforcement and coordination — produce
in time a reflex response. The neurologist who does it in
order to study the phenomena gets purposeless contractions.
The spiritist does it with the notion that the table is to
shortly move under his hands, and the cortical processes
which correspond to this expectation discharge downwards
through the Rolandic region and impose upon the automati-
cally produced contractions a semi-purposive character, pro-
ducing lateral movements of the hands, which serve to move
the table. I have seen this in more cases than one, and have
proved to the satisfaction of the « medium ' that the move-
ments of the table were due solely to the automatic contrac-
tions of his own arms. In the case of B., who had recently
seen what purported to be spirit-writing, and had been much
impressed thereby, the suggestion supplied by the cortical
centres took a slightly different form and determined the
otherwise meaningless movements to assume the form of
writing. At first the patient allowed himself no expecta-
tion as to the content of the writing. But as he watched it
scrawling away he naturally fell to wondering whether this
was meant for such and such a word and that for another;
he would ask whether it were, and then the word would be
plainly written. Evidently, say I, in response to the sug-
gestion given by him. As soon as he became accustomed to
the thought that he might * anticipate ' the words his hand
wrote, the process of genesis became easy. And it was
made easier by a further suggestion which he gave himself.
He asked the alleged spirit once when I was present by
what means he communicated, and how it was that he, the
patient, seemed to anticipate the spirit's thoughts. To which
the writer replied that he supplied the thoughts himself tele-

EXPERIMENTAL IND UCTION OF A UTOMA TIC PROCESSES. 36 1

pathically, it being the function of the « medium ' to write
them down only ! No wonder that the communications
were thereafter much facilitated.

It was a comparatively easy matter to prove the true
origin of these utterances as soon as our attention was drawn
to it. We found that the hand never wrote anything intel-
ligible when B. resolutely refused to attend to the writing.
It was not necessary to look at it, as the motor sensation
was sufficient to serve as a guide to what was being written,
but it was necessary that B. should thus 'anticipate' it. If
he did not the hand would write scrawls. He found also
that the hand responded readily to all manner of sugges-
tions. He had but to think, * Why does it not try to
print,' and forthwith it would print. He would ask the
writer to bring a new spirit to write. It would flit through
his mind that perhaps the new spirit would not be able to
write. The new spirit would appear and write with labor
and difficulty, or would print like a child. Then with « prac-
tice' these characteristics would disappear and the new-
comer would write as well as any habitud of B.'s organism.
If while the hand was writing the illegible scrawls that al-
ways followed when B. did not help it out, he suggested,
' Why do you not try printing?' it would try printing, and
produce page after page of curious symbols resembling some
unknown language. I have no doubt that the ' unknown
languages ' often written by ' mediums ' have a similar ori-
gin. On one occasion a 'new spirit' began writing a back-
hand. He announced that he was born in 1629, the figures
having an archaic look. B. knew something of archaic
script, and it occurred to him that the spirit wrote a hand
suspiciously modern for one who was born in 1629 and died
in 1685. Within a few lines the style changed to a twisted,
gnarled hand, which certainly resembles a specimen of sev-
enteenth century script with which I compared it. B. says
that at the time of writing he thought the automatic script
was written more rapidly than he could write archaic script
of that character, but upon trying he found he could write
identically the same hand voluntarily quite as readily.

Little by little the motor disturbance originally confined
to the arm centres began, if my theory be correct, to involve

362 W. R. NEWBOLD.

other centres. It first invaded the left arm centre, in re-
sponse to the patient's suggestion, and then the legs and
jaws. The development of the symptoms of ideal and sen-
sory automatism I cannot analyze in detail. They were due
doubtless to a progressive central disorganization of some
kind, but I know no reason for it. Yet that the disturbance
was primarily motor is proved by the fact that three or four
days complete rest, with anti-spasmodic treatment, proved
sufficient to put an end to it. B. still retained his power of
producing the writing — a power which he rarely exercises, I
believe — but the spontaneous symptoms entirely disappeared.
The teaching of such facts is plain. B. might well have
become a classic case of < secondary personality ! ' He pre-
sented many of the symptoms which are usually ascribed to
subconscious idea trains, and I think I would myself, if he
had not been an unusually good witness as to the subjective
side of the phenomena, have put that construction upon
them. As it is, this case, in conjunction with others of the
same character, has thrown a flood of light upon the whole
problem for me. I do not deny that mental states may exist
subconsciously, and may be subconsciously 'integrated into
complete dreams, and even into independent personalities.
I would not wish to question, upon the strength of the four
or five cases that I have studied, the conclusions of such
careful investigators as Pierre Janet and Binet. Yet it is
very difficult to correctly interpret the significance of these
automatic phenomena in terms of consciousness when the
patient is incapable of giving any clear account of their sub-
jective feeling. We must remember that, while conscious-
ness is revealed to us through the motor mechanism only, it
does not necessarily follow that a given motor phenomenon
always bears witness to the existence of the conscious state
which it usually expresses. In these cases the significance
of the motor phenomena was undoubtedly due to states in
the upper consciousness, to which they at first glance seemed
to bear no relation whatever, but it seems quite possible that
apparently significant motor phenomena of a high degree of
complexity may be produced by the subcortical mechanism
without the cooperation of the cortex, and in all probabil-
ity without any form of accompanying consciousness.

WELLESLEY COLLEGE PSYCHOLOGICAL
STUDIES.

DIRECTED BY MARY WHITON CALKINS.

I. DR. JASTROW ON COMMUNITY OF IDEAS OF MEN AND

WOMEN.

BY CORDELIA C. NEVERS.

In an article called 'A Study in Mental Statistics/ which
appeared in the December, 1891, number of the New Review,
Prof. Joseph Jastrow discusses, among other subjects, "The
Community of Ideas and Thought-Habits of Men and
Women." His data are fifty lists of one hundred discon-
nected words, twenty-five from the men and twenty-five from
the women of his Wisconsin University psychology class.
His chief conclusions are "that women repeat one anoth-
er's words more than men," and that " there is less variety
among women than among men;" that the feminine traits
revealed are "an attention to the immediate surroundings,
to the finished product, to the ornamental, the individual,
the concrete ; while the masculine preference is for the more
remote, the constructive, the useful, the general, the
abstract."

For the purpose of testing these results the young women
of the experimental psychology class at Wellesley College
were asked to write out similar lists of one hundred discon-
nected words. That the thought-process might be as free
as possible, no restriction was made. The students were not
even asked, as in the case of Dr. Jastrow's class, to write as
rapidly as possible, but this difference in the method cannot
possibly be supposed to account for the wide difference in re-
sults. The subjects had no knowledge whatever of the pur-
pose of the investigation. Twenty-five papers from those
first completed were selected for the comparison ; all were

363

364 CORDELIA C. NEVERS.

rejected which were not declared by the writers to be the
result of a natural flow of thought, and two were set aside
because the words formed sentences.

According to Dr. Jastrow's first generalization, « women
repeat one another's words more than men.' He finds that
" female students in their 2,500 words used only 1,123 dif-
ferent words, while their classmates used 1,375. Again with
regard to classes, the women show different preferences from
the men. The repetitions in the names of articles of apparel,
of interior furnishings, predominate with women. Similarly
the men have more repetitions in the names of animals, and
mention more such names." The Wellesley lists tell a dif-
ferent story. Only fifteen lists, that is 1,500 words, have
been studied from this point of view, but among the 1,500
are 1,103 different words, only 20 less than those among the
2,500 of the Wisconsin University women, and only 272 less
than those among the 2,500 of the Wisconsin University men.

Further comparison is based upon Dr. Jastrow's division
of his words into twenty-five classes. There may, of course,
occur a deviation from Dr. Jastrow's principles of assign-
ment of particular words to appropriate classes, but with
reference to the classes which he especially emphasizes
(words of wearing apparel, for instance, and abstract terms)
there is no chance for difference of opinion. In the follow-
ing tables of results Dr. Jastrow's order of frequency has
been followed :

Comparative table of frequency of mention :

G *O G *o ju

£* £* 1^

1. Animal kingdom, - - 254 178 223

2. Wearing apparel and fabrics, - - 129 224 96

3. Proper names, . - - 194 153 141

4. Verbs, - - 197 134 114

5. Implements and utensils, - 169 121 132

6. Interior furnishings, 89 190 84

7. Adjectives, - - 177 102 234

8. Foods, - - - - - - 53 179 56

WELLE SLEY COLLEGE PSYCHOLOGICAL STUDIES. 365

9. Vegetable kingdom, - - 121 no 91

10. Abstract terms, - - 131 97 280

n. Buildings and building materials, - 105 117 106

12. Parts of body, - 101 105 34

13. Miscellaneous, - 91 99 162

14. Geographical words, - 97 80 142

15. Mineral kingdom, - 74 96 54

16. Meteorological and astronomical, - 85 76 26

17. Stationery, - 60 89 26

1 8. Occupations and callings, 71 47 33

19. Conveyances, . 62 52 79

20. Educational, ----- 34 76 167

21. Other parts of speech, - 96 5 41

22. Arts, 33 61 44

23. Amusements, ----- 30 53 102

24. Mercantile terms, 30 29 15

25. Kinship, ------ 117 32 18

2500 2500 2500

The differences between these Wisconsin and Wellesley
women's lists are very striking. According to Dr. Jastrow's
results, the class to which women contribute most largely is
that of 'articles of dress.' Of every 11 words, i belongs to
this class, and the women have 224 such words as i against
129 on the men's list. Our records, on the other hand,
swell the numbers of this class to only 96 words, giving it
but i word in every 26. And if arranged in the Wellesley
order of frequency this class would have been twelfth instead
oi first.

In the sixth class, again, our results differ widely from
those of Dr. Jastrow. He writes: "The prevalence of
words denoting the common articles of furniture and interior
fittings of a house — the peculiar field of woman's household
instincts — is quite as marked, such objects being mentioned
190 times by women and 89 times by men." Our lists in-
clude only 84 such words, suggesting, perhaps, a lack ot
household instinct on the part of the Wellesley students, who
appear less domestic than even the Wisconsin University
men. In the class of 'foods' the disproportion of the Wis-
consin record is even greater: the women mention words

366 CORDELIA C. NEVERS.

of this class 179 times and the men only 53 times. The
Wellesley records include, however, only 56 words of this
sort.

In reference to words referring to amusements, arts and
educational matters, our statistics corroborate the statement
of Dr. Jastrow, that, in these subjects « women show an ex-
cess over the men. "This," he observes, "points to a
characteristic difference in the interests of the two sexes."
The Wellesley students mention words referring to amuse-
ments with suggestive frequency — 102 times.

" In the young men," Dr. Jastrow says, "we see marked
preference for names of animals, of implements and utensils,
the names of professions and similar relations." Up to this
point our results agree, though the distinction which he
notes is not in every case so marked. But the preponder-
ance of abstract terms in the men's lists, which Dr. Jastrow
accentuates strongly, vanishes utterly when these records
are compared with those of the Wellesley students. Our
lists contain 280 abstract terms, not only more than those
(131) of Dr. Jastrow's men, but more than those (228) of all
fifty of his students. In one paper alone occur fifty abstract
words ; the writer was specially questioned, and insisted
that the progress of the thought had been entirely natural.
If this unusual record be omitted, there still remains a num-
ber slightly greater than the Wisconsin total. It should be
added that the Wellesley students earlier in the year had
written several associated lists, involving almost necessarily
the use of concrete terms, so that any artificial inclination to
abstractness was unlikely. The prevalence both of abstract
terms and of adjectives in the Wellesley lists is of question-
able rhetorical import.

The conclusions from this study are thus chiefly negative,
but not for that reason unimportant. The figures are too
few to allow any positive deductions, but their uncompro-
mising contradiction of Dr. Jastrow's results gives a needed
warning concerning the dangers of such comparative study
of the mental processes of men and women. If the serious
study of the supposed psychic differences between the sexes
can lead to conclusions so opposite to each other, the worth-

WELLE SLEY COLLEGE PSYCHOLOGICAL STUDIES. 367

lessness of ordinary generalizations is made very clear —
based as they are on purely personal observation and,
usually, on the comparison of men and women of entirely
different training.

II. PREVALENCE OF PARAMNESIA.

BY MARGARET B. SIMMONS.

An incidental corroboration of the ordinary opinion that
paramnesia, in its various forms, is very common among
normal people, was obtained in the course of some experi-
ments on association1 with the Wellesley subjects already
mentioned, and with members of the Harvard Psychological
Laboratory. A series of colors, each of them quickly fol-
lowed by a numeral, was shown ; and afterwards the colors
alone were exposed, in succession, with the request that
whatever numeral occurred to the mind of the subject, at
the appearance of each color, should be written down. The
main object of the experiment was to discover the number of
times in which that numeral which had appeared in the first
series in close connection with a color, would now be asso-
ciated with the same color appearing alone. The subject
was also asked, however, immediately after writing down a
numeral, to record by the use of the signs -f , — and ?, his
opinion of the correctness of the association. These opin-
ions form the material of the following summary of cases of
a form of paramnesia, which may be called False Recognition.

Regarding first the totals, it will be observed that almost
half (47%) of our entire number of recorded opinions are in-
stances of paramnesia. The first vertical column of the
table contains, as will be observed, the number of cases of
what may be called negative paramnesia, not the persuasion
that a mere object of imagination is a memory image, but
the failure to recognize an actual reproduction. This dis-
tinction may best be studied by reference to the analysis of
the phenomena of memory into two factors (objective and
subjective), namely, recurrence or reproduction, and recog-

1 Cf. PSYCHOLOGICAL REVIEW, Sept., 1894.

368

MARGARET B. SIMMONS.

nition. These cases of 'negative paramnesia,' in which the
correct numeral is judged to be wrong, involve actual recur-
rence, unaccompanied, however, by recognition ; the instan-
stances in which the incorrect numeral is judged to be
correct involve a failure of reproduction, as well as a lack of
recognition. The fact that this latter class of pseudo-remin-
iscence contains 323 cases, or three times as many as the
class of negative paramnesia, indicate that these factors, re-
currence and recognition, strengthen each other or fail
together.

FALSE RECOGNITION.

The numeral written actually is :

Total.

Correct.

Incorrect.

Half correct.

Correct recogni-
tion

372 (76.64 J&)1

704(24.35$)

75(59-05$)

jj/ (52.98$)

False recognition
(paramnesia) :

Numeral, judged
correct, ....

0

90

29

119

Numeral, judged
incorrect

36

o

23

59

Numeral, judged
doubtful, . . .

78

233

o

3ii

Total paramnesia,
Total cases .

//I (33.45$)

j<7(75.64$)

52 (40.94$)

48g (47-01$)

486

427

127

1,040

1 The per cents are calculated on the totals at the foot of the vertical columns.

SENSORY STIMULATION BY ATTENTION,

BY PROFESSOR JOHN GRIER HIBBEN,
Princeton University.

The important function which is attributed to attention
in the processes of sense-perception is very strikingly illus-
trated in an interesting instance which has recently been
brought to my notice, and which throws into sharp relief
the phenomena of attention operating in an intensified man-
ner, and consequently modifying sensation to an extreme
extent. It very often happens that normal tendencies are
most clearly exhibited in unusual or abnormal cases, because
there then occurs an inhibition of counter or complimentary
tendencies, thus presenting to the observer the unique opera-
tion of an undisturbed and unmodified function. Instead of
the resultant of many, there is the sole functioning of the
one element separated from its usual concomitants. A force
thus revealed in isolation is more readily appreciated when-
ever seen conjoined with accompanying forces in any system
however complex.

The instance I wish to present seems to me to be of this
nature, a case where the normal functioning of the attention
is intensified in a very unusual degree. It is the case of a
child about eight years old, a little girl, who as a baby was
supposed to be congenitally deaf, as she gave no evidence of
hearing any sounds whatsoever. Somewhat later in her devel-
opment, however, it was noticed that at certain times she
seemed to hear, and this always in connection with some
objects of special interest, as bright pictures, toys, etc.
And this now characterizes her general ability to hear:
whenever the subject is one especially interesting to her,
she hears without great difficulty; but whenever there is no
interest in conversation, it is with greatest difficulty that she
can be made to hear at all ; and it is impossible to gain her

369

3/O JOHN GRIER HIBBEN.

attention by any sounds, however loud, if she is engrossed
in any absorbing task or play. Connected with this natu-
rally there was an extremely tardy beginning of speech and
very slow development, though during the last year — her
eighth year — there has been a marked acceleration of her
progress in this particular. In Preyer's classification of the
imperfections and derangements of speech there is no pre-
cise place for such a case as this, as it is neither peripheral
deafness, nor yet does it seem to be any cerebral derange-
ment.1 The difficulty seems to be psychical rather than
physiological.

The facts as I have given them were narrated to me by a
trained nurse, graduate of the New York Hospital Training
School, who was in my family for a month or more during
this last winter. She had been for several months in the
family attending the mother of this child, and had had abund-
ant opportunity for observation and for acquiring accurate
information upon the subject. Moreover, she is a woman of
very unusual ability, as one of the visiting surgeons of the
New York Hospital assured me, and therefore one whose
account can be wholly relied upon. In addition to her re-
port of the case, however, I called upon a physician in New
York who had known and observed this child for several
years, and he fully corroborated the statement as made by
the nurse in all particulars. I learned from him also that
the child had been examined three different times by an emi-
nent specialist in New York, and no defects either in the
outer or middle ear could be detected. The indications all
pointed to normal peripheral conditions, and the marked
variations in hearing seem due to the central fluctuations of
interest and the corresponding concentration or distraction
of the attention. This appears only as an exaggerated form
of the normal affect of interest upon attention. As Bradley2
says: "If an idea engrosses, then any sensation which is
connected with that idea may in consequence engross. And
attention so far has appeared to consist in interest, either
direct or transferred ; an account which, we shall find, will

1 The Development of the Intellect, p. 36 ff .
1 Mind, Vol. XI, p. 310.

SENSOR Y S TIM ULA TION BY A TTENTION. 3 7 1

hold good everywhere" (Cf. Waitz, Lehrbuch, 634-7). In
the ordinary phenomena of hearing, we recognize two mo-
menta, the external stimulus and the inner adaptation of
attention. According to Prof. James,1 " the natural way of
conceiving this is under the symbolic form of a brain-cell
played upon from two directions. Whilst the object excites
it from without, other brain-cells, or perhaps spiritual forces,
arouse it from within. The latter influence is the « adapta-
tion of the attention.' The plenary energy of the brain-cell
demands the cooperation of both factors. Not when merely
present, but when both present and attended to, is the object
fully perceived." Now, in sense-perception the two mo-
menta, stimulus without and attention within, are normally
so related that the former generally predominates, and is
capable of arousing the activity of the latter, which is thus
in a sense a function of the former, always reacting when the
stimulus is sufficiently intense. In the case which we are
considering, however, the attention does not function in an
instinctive manner in response to an outer stimulus, and
seems independent of its degree of intensity ; but is readily
aroused by the inner interest, and then alone is the con-
sciousness of the outer stimulus rendered possible. This
child, for instance, understands the sign language, and that
is resorted to in order to communicate with her until inter-
est has quickened the attention, and that in turn has stimu-
lated the hearing. This is similar, in a much lessened
degree, to the ordinary cases of what Herbart styles apper-
ceptive attention — viz., where strained attention brings to
consciousness external stimuli otherwise unnoticed. And
this is similar also to what Prof. James2 refers to as the « idea-
tional preparation' for sensation, in which, of course, there
:is increased attention, reinforced by the dominant idea pres-
ent in the mind. The function of attention in sense-percep-
tion is illustrated by Wundt3 with weak auditory stimuli,
as the ticking of a watch at some distance from the ear, so
that it can be perceived only with some strain of attention,

1 James, Psychology, I, p. 441.

a Psychology, Vol. I, pp. 453, 439.

'Wundt, Human and Animal Psychology, pp. 256-7.

372 JOHN GRIER HIBBEN.

but will fall below the limen of consciousness without any re-
laxation. At intervals of three or four seconds the regularly
recurring impressions alternately appear and disappear. In
this child's case, however, the attention is not merely a
factor necessary to discriminate concerning very weak
stimuli, but the very strongest stimuli cannot excite the
attention through reaction ; it can only be centrally aroused ;
the hearing, then, being a function of the attention in her
case, rather than the two being complementary functions
determined by a law of action and reaction.

Moreover, a child's attention is characterized ordinarily
by an extreme susceptibility to the sights and sounds of the
outer world, and responds almost instinctively to sensorial
stimuli. Sustained concentration of attention in childhood
is unusual.1 It is in mature age that attention follows our
permanent interests, and only those objects associated with
such interests find place in consciousness. Absorption in
contemplation occurs only when a large group of associa-
tions have for years been forming about the controlling in-
terest. And even then, with interests of greatest compelling
power, diversion occurs whenever sensorial stimuli are suffi-
ciently increased in intensity. This child, however, can
have no developed associations of any considerable extent
around her controlling interests; and yet her absorption in
the same is complete, and her attention is incapable of being
distracted. There is also a marked difference in her in-
creased ability to hear whenever questioned concerning
scenes which she has herself witnessed and in which she has-
taken part with evident pleasure to herself. For instance,
after attending an exhibition of Hagenbeck's animals in New
York, she heard and replied to all questions put to her con-
cerning the animals and their performances. In this no
doubt there was an ideational reinforcement of the auditory
stimuli through the memory pictures still vividly impressed
upon her mind. The ideational processes causing motor
discharges which in time would increase the intensity of the
sensation. This would form a stimulus additional to the
mental energy arising from the increased interest already

1 James, Psychology, I, p. 417.

SENSOR Y STIMULA TION BY A TTENTION. 3/3

mentioned.1 In this connection it may be of interest to
quote a sentence from Prof. James that bears upon this
point: " We see how we can attend to a companion's voice
in the midst of noises which pass unnoticed, though object-
ively much louder than the words we hear. Each word is
doubly awakened ; once from without by the lips of the
talker, but already before that from within by the premoni-
tory processes irradiating from the previous words, and by
the dim arousal of all processes that are connected with the
'topic' of the talk. The irrelevant noises, on the other
hand, are awakened only once. They form an unconnected
train."2

In accounting for such a phenomenon, it is well also to
take into consideration the physiological conditions which
tend to increase the intensity of a sensation when the atten-
tion is unusually concentrated upon it. There seem to be
indications of increased circulation in the parts concerned.
This is stated by Dr. Cappie in his article on « The Physi-
ology of Attention and Volition'3: " The mental effect pro-
duced by an impression on a sensory surface is stronger,
and details about the impressing cause are more completely
gathered in when the mind is concentrated on it. ... Two
factors, at least, may be specified as bearing on this prob-
lem. In the first place, when the consciousness is engrossed
by an immediate sensation, the sphere of encephalic activity
is comparatively restricted. In the second place, the ence-
phalic circulation will be focused in the direction of activity.
The molecular agitation occasions a necessity and an attrac-
tion for more blood, and determination of this takes place all
the more freely on account of the quiescence of the large
part of the brain. The latter has, as it were, loosened its
hold on the circulation, and the impetus towards those parts
which have an attraction for it is thus all the stronger. The
increased activity of the circulation then reacts on the ener-
gies of the tissue, and the mental effect produced is there-
fore greater."

1 Baldwin, Mental Development, pp. 462-3.

a James, Psychology, Vol. I, p. 450.

8 Popular Science Monthly, Vol. XXX, pp. 231-2.

374 JOHN GRIER HIBBEN.

Now, in the case of this child, it seems as though the
conditions, both physiological and psychological, are pres-
ent in exaggerated form, in order to produce the unusual
results. The difference, however, between this case and
normal instances is a difference rather of degree than of kind.

An additional feature of interest lies in the similarity
between the phenomena we have been considering and the
phenomena often accompanying attacks of hysteria. In such
cases there is generally a very restricted field of attention,
and the patient becomes so completely absorbed in some en-
grossing subject as to appear completely oblivious to all
sensorial stimuli whatsoever. For instance, take such a
case as cited by Pierre Janet: Lucie, while talking to one
person, was insensible to all sounds about her, and could
even be touched without being conscious of it. And when
L6onie was knitting or writing, you might open or shut the
door with a loud noise, speak to her, touch her, etc., with-
out her perceiving it at all. Moreover, there were parts of
her body which were so extremely sensitive to touch as to
provoke cries of pain and even convulsions ; and yet, when
preoccupied by work or simple conversation, she could be
touched upon the same hyperaesthesia spots, with no indica-
tion that she perceived this.1 This account is very similar to
the report which I received in reply to a letter which I wrote
to the nurse above mentioned, making further inquiry con-
cerning this child's case, and asking particularly whether she
could hear when spoken to from behind, where her attention
could not be aroused by any visual stimulus. The follow-
ing is the answer which I received: " Her ability to hear
when interested, in comparison with times when not inter-
ested, is very marked. She can hear if you stand behind
her and talk very loud, but not very well ; and never when
she has her mind concentrated on another object; for in-
stance, if she is at a window, looking out at something which
has her attention, it is impossible to make her hear."

A case somewhat similar, yet with certain interesting
peculiarities, is quoted by Pick from Pitres' 2 Lemons cliniques

1 Pierre Janet, II Automatisme Psychologique, pp. 188-9.
*Zdt. fiir Psych., p. 168.

SENSOR Y STIMULA TION BY AT TENT ION. 375

sur r hysteric : "The patient, with eyes open, could hear;
but with eyes closed could not; with one eye open it was
possible to hear in the ear opposite, but not in the ear upon
the same side as the opened eye." In this same article by
Pick, Ueber die sogenannte Conscience Musculaire (Duchenne),
there is a general historical survey from the time of Duchenne
to the present concerning cases of anaesthesia, in which
motor activities have been mediated through visual attention,
indicating the quickening of motor as well as sensory func-
tions, by means of a concentration of attention. In all cases
where there was not this aid of attention through auditory
or visual direction, the attempted movements were impossi-
ble. It has been also observed that in the somnambulistic
state subjects are sensitive to the voice of the hypnotizer,
but do not hear other voices. M. Janet mentions the case
of one in this condition who could see a candle lighted by
himself, but not those lighted by others; and adds that such
"is not peculiar to the somnambulistic state, but exists in
high degree among all persons susceptible to suggestion.
It is an exaggerated state of distraction which is not merely
temporary, and not the result of voluntary attention directed
exclusively to one sense ; but it is a state of natural and per-
petual distraction which prevents these persons from per-
ceiving any other sensation than that which actually occupies
the whole field of consciousness."1

The case of this child seems to occupy a position midway
between the temporary and permanent states of distraction
as mentioned in M. Janet's account. In all of the similar
instances which I have given, as parallel to this case, I have
endeavored to indicate varying stages of concentrated atten-
tion from the normal to the exaggerated and abnormal; and
as closely related phenomena we may consider them as differ-
ent manifestations of one and the same tendency — the inten-
sified force of attention producing an exaggerated modifica-
tion of the intensity of sensorial stimuli.

*P. Janet, L* Automatisme Psychologique, p. 189.

SHORTER CONTRIBUTIONS.
PRACTICAL COMPUTATION OF THE MEDIAN.

BY E. W. SCRIPTURE,

Yale University.

In the PSYCHOLOGICAL REVIEW for Jan., 1894, I called
attention to the practical and theoretical advantage of the
median over the arithmetic mean. Since that time the me-
dian has been employed in many thousand adjustments with
entire success. The theoretical justification has, however,
been lacking, and correct formulas have not been given.

In the Studies from the Yale Psychological Laboratory, 1894,
II, 5, I have presented a theoretical consideration of the
median. Owing to condensation the practical computation
has not been explained in such a way as to be available to
the non-mathematical reader. Fechner is the only one who
has attempted to give practical rules. They are not quite
correct, and, as experience during the past year has shown,
are incomplete. I propose here to put the matter in a prac-
tical shape for actual computation, all theoretical discussion
being avoided. Suppose that you have a set of n measure-
ments, x^ xv • . • , xn. Starting with the smallest value,

check them off in order of size till you come to the - — th
value. Then, as a verification, start with the largest value
and check off downward to the - — th value. For an odd

number of measurements the two results will agree ; for an
even number they will agree or be adjacent in order of size.
For example, suppose we have the following results of a
set of experiments on reaction-time: 213, 215, 214, 210, 212,
214, 215, 210, 212. There are 9 values, and the middle

value is the ( — — Jth or 5th. The smallest is 210, the next

smallest is 210, the next 211, etc. The 5th is 213. The
largest is 215, the next 215, etc. The 5th is 213.
376

PRACTICAL COMPUTATION OF THE MEDIAN. 3/7

Let us take, as another example, the set of values: 44,
51, 46, 50, 47, 49, 47, 45, 48, 50. The median will be the

or 5jth value. The 5th from the smallest is 47;

the 5th from the largest is 48; the 5jth will naturally lie
between the two, and we take 47^ as the median.

A third variety of examples arises by taking a set of
results where several values fall on the same number as
median. Suppose we have 127, 123, 121, 123, 125, 124, 121,

120, 122, 123, 124, 123, 123, 123, 123, 122, 121, 125, 124, 121,
122.

Result, 120 121 122 123 124 125

Times of occurrence, 143542

The (-^t-Jth or loth value is 123. The expression M=*

113, however, does not mean M= 123,000 . . . but 123.5 >
J/> 122.5, because we have been rounding off by errors of
scale and errors of number all records to the unit-place
instead of writing them to an indefinite number of decimals.
Owing to the fact that 5 values fall upon 123, we know
something about the first decimal place.

We are entitled to suppose that all values of 123 have
arisen from values evenly distributed between 122.5 an<^ 123-S-
Counting from the smallest end, we have 8 values up to the
limit of the region covered by the middle values ; counting
from the larger end, we have 6 values down to the other
limit of this region.

The general formula is expressed as follows: Letr be the
value on which the median falls, and let there be m such
values. Let the number of values above r be a and below r
be b. Then take c = a — b and

1 2 m
This will give the decimal places for the median.

In the last example & = 8, a =6, c= — 2, m = $, r=$
and consequently

'=3 + — = 2.8.

0 ~ 10

378

SHORTER CONTRIBUTIONS.

Although we know something about the first decimal
place, we know nothing of any worth regarding the second
decimal place unless m > 100.

To make clearer the third kind of example, I subjoin a
set of specimens that show how the changes in c affect the
value of M.

2.)

3-)

4-)

5-)

II 12 13 13 13 13 14 15 IS 15

m = 4
= 13 + |=

ii 12 13 13 13 13 I4 15

b =2 m= 4 0=2

£ = o J/=i3-fo=i3

10 ii, 12 13 13 13 13 14 15

c= — I

m = 4

9 10 ii 12 13 13 13 13 14

£ = 4 ^ = 4

£=-3 M=i3-% =

9 10 ii 12 13 13 13 13

6.)

9 10 ii 12

15 15 15

a — 4

The computation in the last two kinds of examples is so

THE SECOND YEAR AT THE YALE LABORATORY. 379

simple that it can be performed with great rapidity. Those
of the other kind are almost as easy as soon as the computer
becomes familiar with the median. Indeed, the economy of
the median, in respect to time is something that can be
appreciated only by some one who is obliged to compute
many sets of results.

THE SECOND YEAR AT THE YALE LABOR-
ATORY.

BY E. W. SCRIPTURE,

Yale University.

Probably the most important event during the year was
the introduction of the median as a mean value in place of
the arithmetical mean. Early in the year it became evident
that the arithmetical mean was a poor one to use for the re-
sults obtained and the median was substituted. This value
is the middle one from either extreme in a set of values ar-
ranged in the order of size. It had been theoretically dis-
cussed by Laplace and Fechner, but had never been put to
practical use. The main reason for this radical departure
can be summed up briefly as follows: I. Psychological and
statistical measurements almost always follow an assymmet-
rical law of probability, and for such cases the median is a
better representative than the arithmetical mean ; 2. the sav-
ing in labor of compensation is very great; 3. the small
numerical disadvantage is almost never of importance. The
first article of the second issue of the Studies from the Yale
Psychological Laboratory makes an attempt at a thorough
theoretical treatment of the median and a comparison of it
with the arithmetical mean. The article, although crude
and incomplete, may derive some value from the fact that
the author subjected it to criticism and correction by several
mathematicians, notably Prof. Gibbs.

The most extensive investigation of the year was by Mr.
Gilbert on the mental and physical development of school
children. About 1,400 children were subjected to tests and
measurements on the muscle-sense, color-sensitiveness, sug-
gestibility, reaction-time, discrimination-time, time-memory,

380 SHORTER CONTRIBUTIONS.

voluntary motor ability and fatigue, weight, height and
lung-capacity. The ages are from 6 to 17. Tables and
curves of results show the laws of development with age.

The work is presented in the thesis in so condensed a
form that it is impossible to further summarize it. Its great
value probably lies in the opening-up for investigation the
field of mental life in school-children by the invention of
suitable methods and apparatus. It is a contribution to
child-study and anthropology, in which the methods of the
new psychology are applied for the first time. The use of
mean variation, of two kinds for the study of the children is
a notable innovation.

An investigation on the highest audible tone led to the
following conclusions: i. The pitch of the highest audible
tone varies directly and almost proportionately with the in-
tensity; 2. the highest audible tone is much higher when
proceeding from silence to sound than when proceeding from
sound to silence; 3. fatigue has apparently no effect; 4.
fluctuations were found similar to the fluctuations for the
threshold of intensity; 5. above the highest audible tone
there is still found an indefinite, somewhat painful sensation.

Experiments on the education of muscular control and
power lead to the conclusions: i. Steadiness of movement
can be increased by practice; 2. this increase in steadiness
is not limited to the muscles immediately trained, it affects
the control of the corresponding muscles on the opposite
side of the body ; 3. the training consists principally in train-
ing in steadiness of attention ; 4. the increase in muscular
power by training, as measured by a dynamometer, is partly
transferred to the opposite side without training.

Some experiments made on fencers and others seem to
justify the statements:

1. The average fencer is not quicker in simple reaction
(where a few mental elements are involved) than a trained
scientist.

2. When once the mind is made up to execute a move-
ment, fencers are far quicker in the actual execution.

3. As the mental process becomes more complicated, the

THE SECOND YEAR AT THE YALE LABORATORY. 381

time required by the average fencer is greater than that re-
quired by a trained scientist.

4. The general conclusion seems to be that fencing does
not develop mental quickness more than scientific pursuits,
but it does develop to a high degree the rapidity of execut-
ing movements.

The investigations mentioned thus far are published in
the Yale Studies.

Throughout the year the investigation of hallucination
and suggestion has been continued ; it will be brought to a
close in the coming year.

An investigation on the least perceptible change in the
intensity of light has been carried on at intervals during two
years, but is still left unfinished.

The scientific policy of the laboratory remains unchanged,
the main effort being to train the members to accurate and
reliable work. That this is not always successful is gener-
ally due to previous defective mathematical training.

In the account of the laboratory for the first year (PSY-
CHOLOGICAL REVIEW for Jan., 1894), mention was made of
the success of the small workshop. During the past year
the equipment was largely increased by the introduction of
a two horse-power motor, shafting, etc., and by the pur-
chase of new tools. It is the desire of the laboratory to
offer facilities to all psychological institutions for the con-
struction of fine apparatus.

The officers of the laboratory during the year were :
E. W. Scripture, instructor and director, and C. B. Bliss,
lecturer and assistant. Mr. J. J. Hogan was employed as
instrument maker and electrician. Dr. Bliss left at the end
of the year to take the place of assistant professor in the
University of the City of New York.

DISCUSSION.

THE NEW PSYCHOLOGY IN UNDERGRADUATE WORK.

The rapid development of laboratories for the study of Physiolog-
ical and Experimental Psychology has silenced the chief objections
to such methods of investigating the facts of mind. It is doubtful
if any other subject ever experienced as rapid changes in method
and point of view as has psychology during the last five years. We
need not go back fifteen years to find the beginning of the first
laboratory in America. The first was also the only one till 1887.
During the next three years about one laboratory per year was
begun in this country ; then several came at once, and for three
years thereafter they fairly poured upon us. The past year has wit-
nessed the establishment of fewer well-equipped laboratories, proba-
bly because all the more important schools of our land had already
inaugurated the work. The universities of Michigan, California and
Minnesota, in which psychology has always been subordinated to
History of Philosophy and Ethics, have not attempted to withstand
the tide. For the past two years the chief progress, perhaps, has
been in the normal schools and in modifying the methods of teach-
ers of philosophy in the smaller colleges. The text-books of men
who are believed fairly to represent the attitude of Harvard, Yale
and Princeton toward the 'matsrialism' of the new movement, have
done more than all else to make easy the growth of modern psy-
chology in our denominational colleges and in our normal schools.

Now that a firm foothold is acquired, may we not profitably look
about us to discover, if possible, where we stand ? The establish-
ment of more than thirty psychological laboratories in this country
in the last five years was not the result of a carefully matured plan
to revolutionize instruction in philosophy. Indeed there has been
no planning done for the college world at large, and unfortunately,
perhaps, very little for any institution in particular. The men and
women at the head of these laboratories have come from several
independent schools for original investigation, or from one or two
schools in this country with much the same object, or have picked
up their knowledge by reading and private experimenting. Proba-
bly not one of these directors has followed any general plan in use

382

THE NE W PS YCHOLOG Y IN UNDERGRAD UA TE WORK. 383

elsewhere. We have, therefore, as many ideals as we have indi-
vidual directors. Let nothing be said unfavorable to such a condi-
tion. It has doubtless made stronger men and has been a prominent
factor in the extraordinary success of the new movement. Even
we, however, may learn from the experience of others, and our suc-
cessors must depend largely upon our work.

It does not seem out of place to inquire into some of these ideals
with a view to determine the nature of their agreements and the
extent of their differences. If sufficient interest in this subject
exist, a discussion of the aims and possibilities of the new psy-
chology may lead to a considerable extension of its usefulness with-
out necessarily interfering with the individuality of the various labor-
atories and their already efficient directors. It is with a hope to
provoke such a discussion that this short paper is written.

In the first place, we note that the new psychology has not taken
the place of the old psychology, in the sense of having been sub-
stituted for the latter in the required course of study. While nearly
all colleges formerly required psychology for graduation, at least in
some of the courses, there are very few (I know of none) that re-
quire physiological and experimental psychology for graduation in
any course. The extension of the elective system has been a most
potent means of introducing the new work. In what different ways
this is true need not be enumerated, as nearly every school has made
the change within the last few years.

Most of the older universities were content to require a certain
amount of 'philosophy,' usually a smaller amount, than formerly;
the student was thus at liberty to select his specific work with the
consent of the professor in charge. In many of the newer universi-
ties, especially in the Central States, philosophy was eliminated
entirely from the required work in some or all of the numerous
courses leading to the bachelor's degree.

We may now see some effects of these steps when taken in con-
junction with the following facts : First, in the larger and older
schools several professors are engaged in teaching the different sub-
jects generically called philosophy. As a rule these men are scholars
of experience, power, skill, influence, and reputation. Also, as a
rule, the new instructor in experimental psychology has been a
recent graduate lacking some of the above-mentioned qualities. It
is very evident why it has seemed inadvisable to attempt to develop
an undergraduate course that would attract the general student.
Hence, in nearly all large universities of the East, experimental
psychology is considered a post-graduate, or at least an advanced,

384 DISCUSSION.

philosophical discipline. Students are admitted to its work under
various conditions, but generally after work in other lines of philoso-
phy. If we all feel now as I felt when I first determined to study
the new psychology, this plan would be quite rational — indeed con-
science would demand it; the intellectual, moral and religious safety
of the students would require such a preparation against the evil
temptations therein. There is, of course, no question of conscience
in this method. It is merely the result of conditions that are diffi-
cult to remove, and perhaps, in most cases, whose removal is not
desired.

The additions to this young science must come mostly from men
whose professional duties are light and whose energy is commen-
surate with their leisure. These professors and their well-trained
students furnish valuable contributions every year. The animating
spirit, the successful progress and the new recruits must always
come from men whose entire time is given to research or to students
engaged in research. The post-graduate work in psychology is even
more necessary than such work in other departments. The follow-
ing lines, therefore, will not be understood as an attack upon post-
graduate work in psychology, nor even as an underestimation of the
value of such work.

Is there a field for experimental psychology in undergraduate
work ? The writer knows there is sometimes in some places, and
will endeavor to present a few points that seem to him to indicate a
wider field for such work than, according to his personal knowledge,
is now covered.

After the foregoing assertions it will not be surprising to learn
that the facts in support of my present thesis are furnished mainly
by a few Western universities where laboratories for undergraduates
have been successfully conducted with classes, largely elective,
whose numbers form as large a proportion of the entire student body
as do the classes in any branch of philosophy in other institutions.
It does not follow, however, that the conditions of success in these
lines are peculiar to the West, though it is probably owing to the
greater relative importance attaching to the instructor or professor
of the new psychology. In small schools there is seldom another
with whom to share responsibility or authority. The sole professor
of philosophy may conduct his work as the chief executive and the
faculty will endure. These external conditions are more favorable
in the small school. I shall not attempt to show that in large
schools the corresponding less favorable conditions can be improved.
It is the internal evidence that must now engage our attention.

THE NE W PS YCHOLOG Y IN UNDERGRADUA TE WORK. 385,

It is not sufficient to show that large classes in physiological and
experimental psychology are organized every year in several West-
ern schools. This fact shows the possibility of doing such work
with undergraduates and with overworked instructors. It remains
to show that the contrary practice of many schools arises chiefly
from the circumstances already alluded to, or at least that the neg-
lect of the new psychology in undergraduate work is not due to any
constitutional defect in the methods of this science. The apparent
difficulties are not insuperable. The most formidable one is doubt-
less the need of a laboratory. But a laboratory is also necessary for
advanced work. A valid objection, however, is discovered in the
time required for this work. Better supervision is required than for
laboratory work in either chemistry or physics. This demands per-
sonal attention from the instructor in psychology. I think this
objection is unanswerable. If instructors in psychology are unwill-
ing to do this kind of work, we must wait until another species of
instructor can be evolved.

It ought to be unnecessary to describe the effect on the student,
of a laboratory course in psychology, and yet, like chemistry and
physics and botany and zoology, this new science will have to fight
for every inch of ground. The battle will probably take much the
same general course. The first campaign has been won, and psy-
chology may now have a laboratory for advanced workers. It is
not my purpose to show that it is worth while to begin the study of
all science by direct appeal to the original sources, nor shall I at-
tempt to answer that valuable proposition concerning the necessity
of book learning. We certainly cannot obtain all knowledge from
our personal experience. It is generally recognized, however, as
good policy to have some original ideas or personal experience be-
fore we depend much on books. There can be no defence of the
introduction of the new psychology into beginning classes without
practical work. Logic and metaphysics and the dictionary may be
well taught without a laboratory ; physiological and experimental
psychology require some things to see and feel. Unless the spirit of
the new method is breathed into the work, logic, metaphysics or
ancient psychology may as well retain their place as introductions to
philosophy. This spirit cannot be communicated to a large propor-
tion of students by the most brilliant lecturer with a text-book as
assistant. If it can be imparted in any manner, by any means, at
any cost, it is worth serious consideration. It is said that only one
student in ten receives much benefit from the required course in
philosophy, and. that- students seldom elect additional work, in this

386 DISCUSSION.

line outside of lecture 'snaps.' Philosophy at least should be taught
philosophically. No one denies that the most elementary principles
of method are ignored by very many college teachers. Philosophy,
perhaps more than any other discipline, is a sufferer from this cause.
The self-activity of the individual is talked about in a more or less
interesting manner, but there is often little successful effort made
to start this activity a-going.

The writer does not believe, with some college professors, that
philosophy is good only for the few. The introductory course in
philosophy that does not force half the class into activity, and stim-
ulate them to further systematic study, fails in its mission. Interest
is of course essential ; but interest that does not lead to inquiry, the
interest that disappears with the professor's manuscript, is mere
emotional debauchery.

Let us try to analyze the causes of the success of the new psy-
chology as an introduction to the study of philosophy. Retaining
our concrete form of exposition, we have first to note the kind of
mental food the beginner in philosophy has been accustomed to.
He is perhaps a junior. In every instance at least half of his pre-
vious study has been in language. Nearly half the remainder in
mathematics. The other fourth has been given to science or to lan-
guage, or in a few schools it may have been given to history. The
first years in science do not always have the philosophical interest
that might be attached to them if instructors were not bent on mak-
ing specialists. Too often, though needless, the mechanical accu-
mulation of facts, the unaided rediscovery of simple truths, 'discip-
line' blinds for a time the learner. In nearly all cases he is not led
to connect his new knowledge with himself. This is not a fault of
science, but is the misfortune of some teachers of science.

Language teaching is recognized as especially prone to dwell on
the form and to neglect the substance of literature. It sometimes
becomes painfully inhuman if not fiendish in its neglect of heart and
soul. History is certainly alive. It is, moreover, at least anthro-
poid. The first years, however, are usually devoted to times having
least in common with our own. It is difficult for the young student
to put himself in place of the common citizen of Peiraeus or Ostia.
The generalizations of history are especially difficult because of the
complexity of conditions and the social and political inexperience of
the learner.

The junior, therefore, comes to psychology with considerable
mental discipline, with some formal knowledge of the world's his-
tory, and with more or less information concerning isolated facts of
several sciences.

THE NE W PS YCHOLOG Y IN UNDERGRAD UA TE WORK. 387

A general course of physiological and experimental psychology
with laboratory practice ought not only to add to his store of iso-
lated facts, or even merely to impart additional mental culture;
the opportunity for philosophical instruction must not be lost. The
needed facts of the associated sciences will be brought together ;
their relations will become clear, and gradually there will grow up a
rational appreciation of the interdependence of the forces of nature.
Everything now points to man and to me. Its humanity is, of
course, the chief characteristic of philosophy. The new psychology
would fit the beginner to understand that all the universe is akin.
This is the first opportunity the general student will have for bring-
ing together many results of his previous study. Psychology is bet-
ter fitted than any other branch of philosophy to suggest and to
direct this reorganization, because it furnishes very many of the
necessary facts, and does not plunge the inquirer too suddenly into
bottomless speculation. I do not think it desirable or possible to
exclude metaphysics from this introductory course, but the material
is very largely positive, and the transition may be made so gradually
that students will naturally grow the wings of generalization.

Besides furnishing essential materials for the further study of
philosophy, this introductory course should familiarize the student
with the characteristics of philosophic thinking, and, above all,
should test his taste for work of a similar nature. If treated as an
introduction to philosophy, and not as a course in philologic encyclo-
pedism, or as special preparation for specializing in a specific
specialty, the first year in the new psychology ought to stimulate
many students to further work in related lines.

It therefore should be recommended to juniors and should occu-
py about one-fourth of their time for a year. At least two hours
per week should be spent in the laboratory. The class work should
not be formal and impersonal lectures, nor should it be time-killing
oral quizes. Informal conferences, mutual quizes and explanations
should be accompanied by frequent written reviews. If possible the
instructor should be suppressed and the director and inspirer brought
into his place. Such a course affords sufficient opportunity to be-
come acquainted with the work of at least half a dozen modern
writers besides a score of classic monographs. Yet, with the labor-
atory work, this is more than the introductory course in philosophy
usually accomplishes. H. K. WOLFE.

UNIVERSITY OF NEBRASKA.

388 DISCUSSION.

A REJOINDER.

I regret very much that my review of Dr. Hodgson's address
should seem to him unfair or lacking in courtesy. In his reply he is
good enough to say that what he regards as a misstatement of his
reasoning on my part was of course unintentional. Had I to re-
write the review I should with equal courtesy state that Dr. Hodg-
son's securing his conclusions by * blowing both hot and cold in his
premises' was unintentional, but at the time I wrote this fact seemed
to me so obvious as to be undeserving of mention. Dr. Hodgson
set out with a determination to make 'truth the paramount conside-
ration.' He has, however, as I cannot but believe, reasoned badly;
and after having carefully read his reply and re-read his address, I
fail to see that I have done him injustice. If he dislikes the expres-
sion of which I made use in describing his reasoning, I very
willingly withdraw it, for it was no part of my purpose to cause
needless pain to a writer whose works I read with both pleasure and
profit. To me the phrase seems a harmless one, and much less
energetic than the expressions of which he has himself made use in
commenting upon my review.

As to the three confusions attributed to me : the careful reader
of page 99 of the January number will notice that I nowhere confuse
Mr. Hodgson's 'material world' with his 'universe.' That part of
the universe beyond the limits of the known world of matter I call
the 'world of faith.' Mr. Hodgson has himself called it an 'unseen
world' (pp. 16, 17, 18), and has stated that belief in it is 'a state of
mind which we call Faith' (p. 18). In the part of my review to
which Mr. Hodgson objects it is treated precisely as it is in the part
which he finds appreciative and generous, and for which he thanks
me. Of the nature of the 'material element' which fills time and
space in this world of faith I have said nothing.

The careful reader will notice, in the second place, that I
nowhere confound Mr. Hodgson's 'material element in conscious-
ness' with his 'matter' or 'material world.' Indeed, when I use the
word 'matter' to indicate the material element in consciousness, I
put it in quotation marks, and when I use it in the ordinary sense,
as in the phrase 'the world of matter,' I do not do this. At one
period of my life (with some shame do I confess it) I was a thorough
Kantian, and I spent too many years in the company of 'matter'
and 'form' to be capable of so gross a blunder. I am quite sure
that an attentive reading of what I have written will reveal that I
have not made this blunder.

A REJOINDER. 389

As regards the third confusion — that between Mr. Hodgson's
'perceptually known' and his 'positively known1 — here we have the
very « Kern ' of the ' Pudel ; ' and in his use of these terms lies, as I
believe, the very head and front of Mr. Hodgson's offending. I
saw, of course, in reading his address, that he did not make the two
strictly synonymous, and I have nowhere indicated that he did. I
saw, however, with equal clearness, that to make them synonymous
when treating of the ' formal ' element in consciousness, and to dis-
tinguish between them when treating of the 'material' was an incon-
sistency which one might not unjustly characterize as 'blowing both
hot and cold.' That Mr. Hodgson has been guilty of this incon-
sistency I can best show by giving a brief sketch of his argument.

He begins (Section II) by analyzing consciousness into its ma-
terial and formal elements, concluding, as a result of this analysis,
that infinity must attach, in the last resort, to time and space alone
(p. 6). Section III is taken up with a digression on the nature of
intensive quantity. In Section IV he returns to what he declares to
be the main question of the evening, the conception of infinity, and
sets before himself the double task : (i) of ascertaining its meaning,
'and consequently the nature of time and space in respect to
infinity ;' and (2) of discovering 'to what other things the attribute
of infinity may be found to attach, in virtue of their connection
with time and space, and what views of the Sum of Things are im-
posed upon us in consequence of the relations so disclosed* (p. 8).
He concludes here that 'space and time in their entirety are wholly
limitless and inexhaustible' (p. n), since it is impossible to perceive
or imagine a limit to or in space or time without perceiving or
imagining it as having space or time on both sides of it.

Section V points out at length that the infinity of time and space
are 'facts of perception,' not conceptions. 'We observe them,' he
declares, 'alike in the minima and maxima of perception' (p. n) ;
'what thought does with them is to make them objects of concep-
tion, out of, and as well as, objects of perception' (p. 12). A con-
ception is declared to be a man-made entity in contrast to a
perception independent of conceptual thought (p. 13) ; the concep-
tion of infinity is our gathering up of the facts constituting our per-
ception of infinity into a single conspectus (p. 14). Thus Mr. Hodg-
son makes the infinity of time and space facts of perception —
perceived facts. We do not infer or assume that time and space are
infinite, but we perceive it, if, indeed, the above statements and
others like them mean anything at all. Surely I am justified in
thinking that Mr. Hodgson admits perceived facts to be worthy of

390 DISCUSSION.

the name of positive knowledge, and that time and space ' percep-
tually' known as infinite are 'positively' known as infinite. The
passage I shall quote just below will make clear that he does not
regard the infinity of time and space as an article of faith.

This brings me to the concluding section of the address, which
discusses the view of the universe involved in taking 'the perceptual
facts constituting infinity as a disclosure, as far as they go, of its
true nature.' It takes up, in other words, the second part of the
task which, in Section IV, Mr. Hodgson set before himself. He
reasons (p. 15) as follows : "Next, then, let us ***** see
what follows from that view of infinity which I have endeavored to
lay before you this evening, infinity as depending on perceptual
facts. Since on this view the Universe is known to us only as exist-
ing in time and space, and these are known to us as extending be-
yond any boundary which we can conceive or imagine ; and since,
moreover, time and space are known to us, each in its kind and
province, as inseparable co-elements of existing things, it follows
that we must conceive existence as extending commensurably with
time and space, beyond the boundaries of existence as positively
known or imaginable by us. For in the infinity of time and space is
involved their existence beyond the limits of any content positively
known to us, and in their existence is involved that of some co-ele-
ment or other, though not positively known to us, seeing that it is
only as a co-element that we know them. You see how important
are the two facts, disclosed only by analysis, first the illimitability of
the formal element in consciousness, secondly its inseparability from
its material co-element."

From the above I think Mr. Hodgson's mode of procedure in
getting his world of faith is clear enough, as is also the defect in his
reasoning. He finds in consciousness two inseparable elements :
one of them is illimitable (p. 16), perceived to be illimitable (p. u
ff.), known to be illimitable (p. 15). Since the two are inseparable,
he argues, the other must be illimitable too, though we do not posi-
tively know it. In my review I pointed out that our positive
knowledge ought to extend just as far in the case of the one element
as in that of the other. Are they not inseparable ? And if the
infinity of space be a perceived fact, must not the infinity of that
which fills the space perceived (I do not say matter) be a perceived
fact too ? Space and time, says Mr. Hodgson, cannot be perceived
alone. Surely consistency would require Mr. Hodgson to maintain
that the universe is perceived to be infinite, and that, if there be
a world of faith, it can at least not be assumed as an indispensable

A REJOINDER. 39!

co-element to fill empty space and time. According to Section
II of the address there can be no gap to fill — 'this occupation of
what I will call the formal element by feeling is essential to conscious-
ness.' Were there, by any possibility, an empty space or time to
fill, Mr. Hodgson's argument would lapse from the mere fact that
the material element would thereby be proved not to be an indispen-
sable co-element, and inseparable from the formal.

In his reply Mr. Hodgson admits that, when we perceive space
and time to be infinite, 'some kind of material element in conscious-
ness' shares their infinity. This admission is fatal to the argument.
We have here a co-element already given, and none need be assumed.
Is space perceived to be infinite ? then so is this. Mr. Hodgson evi-
dently thinks that such a co-element will not serve the purpose, and
faith must provide another. His reason for this I think I can guess.
His 'perceptual knowledge' does not really mean perception,
although he has (Section V) treated it as such. When I perceive a
chair, the content is as unmistakably perceived as the form. My
knowledge of either element is equally positive. Can we in the same
sense say that we perceive space and time to be infinite ? Are we
talking of genuine perception ? Do we really perceive either the space
and time or the material co-element that shares their infinity ? Surely
not. 'Perceptual knowledge' of the infinity of space and time I be-
lieve to be a delusion and a snare, and I believe it would conduce to
clearness to avoid the expression altogether. It does not concern
the question of the consistency of Mr. Hodgson's argument to enter
into a discussion of the infinity and infinite divisibility of space and
time. For this reason I omitted the discussion in my review of the
address, and for the same reason I omit it here, merely referring
anyone who may feel a curiosity upon this point to what I have
printed elsewhere.1 That perceptual knowledge does not really
mean perception, even to Mr. Hodgson, appears to me evident from
the language of his reply. He defines a 'perceptual knowledge' of
time and space as a representation of them as filled with some material
element in consciousness ; and in what precedes he uses, as though
they might, in his argument, be made to stand for each other, the
expressions 'perceived,' 'represented in thought' and 'thought of
as existing.' The inconsistency of Mr. Hodgson's reasoning lies, as
I have already pointed out, in the fact that his 'perceptional
knowledge' is made equivalent to perception and gives positive in-
formation in the case of the formal element in consciousness, but

1 ' The Conception of the Infinite,' Phila., 1887. 'On Sameness and Identity,'
Phila., 1890, § 36. 'The Philosophy of Spinoza,' 2d Edition. N. Y., 1894, p. 274, ff.

392 DISCUSSION.

has a different meaning and fails to give such information in the
case of the material element. The inconsistency stares one in the
face.

In the last section of his address Mr. Hodgson has inserted two
arguments for his world of faith, which form no part of his main dis-
cussion, and might very well have been advanced by one who had no
sympathy with his ideas on infinity. The one is, that the world of
matter does not furnish answers to all the questions it raises, and
that these answers may be found in a world beyond it. The other
is that there may well be modes of existence of which our present
senses can give us no information. Upon these arguments it is un-
necessary for me to dwell, for they have, as I have said, no neces-
sary connection with the 'infinity and co-element' argument which
I have criticized. G. S. F.

PHILADELPHIA.

SHADOWS OF BLOOD-VESSELS UPON THE RETINA.

If light is admitted into the eye through two small holes in
diaphragm held in the front focal plane, two images of a blood-
vessel in the front part of the retina are cast upon the sensitive
layer. If now red and blue light are admitted together through
the hole, the two shadows cast by the red light are farther apart
than those cast by the blue light ; and Prof. Konig has accounted
for this fact by supposing that the layer of the retina which is sen-
sitive to red rays is farther behind the blood vessel than that which
is sensitive to blue rays, and, in fact, is behind the rods and comes
altogether and in the pigment epithelium. Schapringer1 says that
the fact can be accounted for more simply. His argument is this :
The point at which rays proceeding from a source of light are
brought together is in the line joining the source of light with the
nodal point of the eye (HN in the figure), and all the rays which
reach this point are within a cone whose apex is this point and
whose base is the pupil of the eye. For a source of light near the
eye, this point is behind the retina, and farther behind for red rays
than for blue. Now, the apparent position of the source of light is
determined by the centre of its diffusion-circle, and the centre of the
diffusion-circle will be farther away from the axis of the eye than is
the point in which the line HN meets the retina, and the more so

1 Findet die 'Perception der verse hie denen Far ben in ein und derselbe Lage der
Netzhaut statt ? Pfl. Archiv., LX, 296-302.

SHADOWS OF BLOOD-VESSELS UPON THE RETINA. 393

the less refrangible are the rays of light. The virtual position of
the image of H will, therefore, be farther from the axis if H is a red
object than if it is a blue object; and the more so, again, the farther
the bright point H is from the axis of the eye — the line FN pro-
duced. What follows from this, with perfect rigor, is that two
objects, H and H', will seem to be farther apart in red light than in
blue. Dr. Schapringer takes it for granted that this is the same
thing as to say that the shadows cast by a minute object in front of
the nervous layer of the retina will be farther apart in red light than

H' H

in blue. He says : " Hence in red light the shadow falls on a spot
farther from the axis than in blue, and this is the reason why with
two holes the shadows are farther apart in red light than in blue."
This is, in the first place, very inaccurately expressed ; the red
shadows might both be farther from the axis than the blue shadows,
and yet not be farther apart from each other ; what is necessary is
that the shadow from the point H' be more farther away than from
the point H. But overlooking this point (which is a mere slip of
the pen), Dr. Schapringer's argument .seems to involve a substitu-
tion of dissimilars. The position of the shadow has nothing to do

394 DISCUSSION.

with the centre of the diffusion-circle, but is determined solely by
the direction of that ray of light which has been intercepted by the
blood-vessel. When the point H is in the front focal plane of the
eye for red, the red beam of light is a cylinder, and the blue beam
of light is slightly convergent. (The convergence is exaggerated in
the diagram.) This convergence, Schapringer says, would be so
slight that it may be neglected, and he accordingly makes the blue
beam of light also a cylinder, but proceeding in a different direction
from the red beam. It would seem that in doing this he throws
away as insignificant the very difference in refrangibility in which
the cause of the phenomenon must be sought, and at the same time
assumes a difference in direction of the two beams which does not
exist if they are both taken to be cylinders. Even if the beam of
red light be taken to be a cone, then the case would be different
according as the distance apart of the two holes, H and H', is such
that the shadow-casting blood-vessel is in the right-hand half of
each beam, the left-hand half of each, or in the right-hand half
of one and the left-hand half of the other ; the red shadows would
be farther apart than the blue or nearer together, according as one
or the other of these conditions prevailed, or they might even hap-
pen to be equally distant. And it would still remain to be shown
that this source of difference, if in the right direction, was sufficient
in amount. Prof. Konig has as yet published only a brief sketch of
his work, and the exact details of it are consequently not yet known.1
It is, of course, impossible to suppose that he has not himself taken
account of the difference of refrangibility of red and blue light. At
the same time the reasons against his conclusion are so strong (this
REVIEW, II., p. 144) that any simple means of accounting for the
fact which would hold water would be very welcome.

C. L. FRANKLIN.

A COMMUNICATION.

Certain points emphasized in Prof. Armstrong's kindly notice of
my book, Philosophy of Mind, enable me to make two or three desir-
able explanations.

In the first place, it is regarded as a defect, which increases
he difficulty of understanding fully some of my positions, that the
theory of knowledge postulated "is used as a kind of universal,

1 When measurements are made the red and blue lights are used separately, but
the accommodation of the eye would seem to be kept unchanged from the fact that the
other eye is engaged in reading distances upon a scale.

A COMMUNICATION. 395

with little or no systematic determination of subordinate criteria."
This statement is partially true. But the answer to it, as a charge
against my method or my conclusions, might be given in these very
commonplace words: No one can say everything at once, and every-
one has a certain right to follow his own notions of the best or the
most convenient order in the discussion of connected topics on phi-
losophy. In treating of the metaphysics of mind, I have simply
postulated a general noetical principle — which Prof. Armstrong him-
self admits is '/*« some sort' true for all those who believe in the pos-
sibility of knowledge as implicating reality — and have then at once
proceeded to inquire, what do we know of that particular reality we
call 'the mind,' and of its actual relations to the body and to exter-
nal nature ? Of course, those who take the position of the consistent
positivist (if any such there be), or the deniers of all ontological
science whatever, cannot accept my argument. For them there is
no such possibility as a philosophy of mind, properly so called.
But the 'systematic determination' of this vague general pre-
mise in noetics is itself the complete theory of knowledge. There-
fore, if at all by me, this defect of the Philosophy of Mind will
have to be supplied later and in a separate treatise. I hope then to
make it clear that the 'intermingling of the psychology and the
noetics of self-consciousness,' in discussing the metaphysics of mind,
is no defect of any author's treatment, but an unavoidable result of
the very nature of the subject treated.

Again, Prof. Armstrong finds my metaphysics ' familiar almost
at a glance.' He declares it to be 'distinctly Lotzean in tone/
Now, the measure of truth in this declaration depends upon how far we
agree in understanding Lotze and upon how Prof. Armstrong under-
stands me. As for myself, after considerable study, I confess I
cannot understand Lotze on many most important points ; and on
many others, where I think I do understand him, I cannot agree.
But metaphysics, in the general sense of the term, is another sub-
ject on which I have as yet publicly espoused and incorporated into
this particular metaphysical treatise, only certain general princi-
ples, to which every one who has any metaphysics whatever will
agree, I think, when he does something more than merely 'glance
at' my words. If the latest critic of Lotze interprets him correctly
in the following sentence, then I certainly am not distinctly Lotzean.

According to Prof. Jones' conception of Lotze's views, "Ideality
and reality are handed over respectively to the thought and to its
object ; so that thought is ideal only, and objects are real only, or
thought is ideal without being real, and its objects are real without

396 DISCUSSION.

being ideal." Or, again : " Just as the real world takes no part in
the thinking process, so the results of that process, the conceptions,
classifications, judgments and influences, are not copies of reality,
nor do they in any way represent really existing facts or events."
It would be difficult to gather into two sentences of the same length
views more unlike my own, as to the nature of both thought and
reality, than these Lotzean utterances — if, indeed, they are to be
so characterized.

In general, may I not utter a mild — and, I presume, it will turn
out ineffective — but earnest protest against being 'classed* in any
such fashion ? Without pretence of independence or of originality,
and with cheerful readiness to acknowledge and avail myself of the
results of all successful research and sound thinking on the part of
others, I much prefer not to be named after any one. The very
motto I have chosen for this book is my protest. In this connection
I will improve the opportunity to say that those critics who have
.spoken of my Elements of Physiological Psychology as modeled after
Wundt, etc., simply go contrary to the facts. When I began my
work in physiological and experimental psychology, now about six-
teen years ago, I had never read Wundt's work (then only some four
years old) ; I am not sure now that I even knew of its existence.
The Grundzuge, and all the other work of the Leipzig laboratory, have
always been used by me as any other work — making allowance for
differences in quality, quantity and range. But I suppose that some
•of the younger men, who have been trained in the laboratories which
have sprung up since I began to investigate, have difficulty in
conceiving how any one could get at any truth in other ways than
those to which they have been accustomed, or could venture an
opinion within the mystical and exclusive circle of their own
specialties.

I will speak of only one thing more in explanation. Prof. Arm-
strong complains, not bitterly but mildly, of my polemical style in
certain chapters of my last book ; and he rebukes me for making use
of 'horrible examples.' On this point I will only say that, in order
to discuss three or four views which I considered mistaken, I
selected the most distinguished and respected examples of these
views ; and if in treating them polemically I was in any degree un-
just, or in any place discourteous, I desire once for all humbly to
apologize. Contrary to my usual custom, I adopted deliberately the
polemical method as best adapted for discussing certain topics in
this 'technical treatise.' My judgment as to the wisdom of this
course I do not now withdraw. In general, I suppose there are

A NOTICE. 397

very few writers on psychology and philosophy who have used the
polemical method so sparingly as I have ; and, on the contrary,
taking my theological writings also into the account, there are very
few writers who have suffered so much from it, or so unjustly, at the
hands of others, and in every way.

In general,, too, I sincerely hope that the subject to which I am
devoted may soon pass from the stage of pseudo-critical characteri-
zation to the stage of really critical and thorough discussion. Just
now I should particularly like to have my destructive discussion of
the science and metaphysics of the principle of psycho-physical
parallelism discussed in its turn. I really think this principle needs-
sorely at present the assistance and tender nursing care of its cham-
pions. If a challenge is urgently needed to call forth these cham-
pions, I am sure the challenge should be issued.

GEORGE TRUMBULL LADD.

A NOTICE.

Rev. W. W. Campbell, the joint author of Study A., against whom
Prof. Munsterberg in his ' Notice ' fears I have personal emnity,
permits me to state that " he has read my discussion of the * Motor
Power of Ideas ' and finds it a dignified and sober criticism, without
show of enmity, and such as any student ought to accept of his
work." HERBERT NICHOLS.

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE.
GENERAL.

Comte, Mill and Spencer : an Outline of Philosophy. J. WATSON. Glas-
gow, Maclehose ; New York, Macmillan. 1895. Pp. vii-f302.

The title of this book is a little misleading. Comte, Mill and
Spencer are treated neither exhaustively nor comparatively nor on
their own account nor exclusively ; two names have at least an equ«
claim to figure in the title : Darwin, to whom nearly fifty pages are
given — almost as much as respectively to Spencer and to Mill, and
more than twice the space allotted to Comte — and Kant, the dis-
cussion of whose theories of morality, religion and art takes up fully
a third of the volume. The aim of the book, as indicated by th<
sub-title, is to develop, in connection with the criticism of these five
thinkers, a system of what the author designates as 'Intellects
Idealism.' For the main outlines of his system he rightly ac
knowledges his large and manifest indebtedness to Green an<
Edward Caird. Indeed, his book may be characterised as a syst
matic exposition in brief compass and in clear and intelligible lan-
guage of -the dominant British Neo-Kantian or Neo-Hegelian tyj
of thinking. The method and the matter of exposition are both con-
formable to the traditions of the school.

The gist of the argument for the doctrine advocated is found ii
the chapter criticising Spencer's doctrine of consciousness. Spencer
maintains that the very nature of consciousness forbids any transcen-
dence of the distinction of subject and object ; we are referred for the
explanation of either to its opposite, but neither can be resolved into
the other. The reply acknowledges the distinction, but seeks to
show that the object is ultimately identical with the subject. The
demonstration is as follows : No 'thing' is an isolated individual.
All its determinations are expressions of relations to something else.
The particular 'thing,' therefore, is a mode of existence as a whole.
The object as a whole is, therefore, a systemated unity. Similarly
of the organism: its bodily structure is related to the whole just like
anything else. But its functions are inseparable from its structure.
The total object is, therefore, not merely a systematic but an organic
398

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 399

unity. But the same considerations apply to feeling, in which the
life of the organism and, therefore, of the whole world pulsates, and
to the consciousness which feeling, furnishing its entire content,
makes possible. The object is, therefore, not only a systematic and
organic unity, but self-conscious intelligence or God (173).

The argument seems inconclusive. Granted that no individual —
no bit of matter, no organism, no sentient or conscious being — is
isolated, but that each is an aspect and mirror of the whole ;
granted, further, that man most perfectly mirrors the whole, inward-
ising in feeling, in a way, the whole of nature and conscious of this
whole, in a degree, as he interprets the content of his feeling : does
it, therefore, follow that the object is identical with the subject, and
that the whole is one self-conscious intelligence ? Hardly. It fol-
lows that the universe is of a sort to be mirrored in consciousness,
and that it somehow includes the principle of consciousness in its
nature ; but it is a great step to the conclusion that the universe
is itself self-conscious. This raises the whole question of the self.
But neither at this point nor elsewhere in the book are the difficul-
ties connected with this question rigorously dealt with. Professor
Watson argues, apparently, that because each living being, each
sentient being, each conscious being is in determinate connection
with the whole, there is therefore a universal life, a universal sen-
tiency, a universal consciousness. And because the existence of
each preceding mode is a condition for the existence of the follow-
ing, he concludes, apparently, that the lower is the possibility of the
higher in the sense that it is essentially of the same nature. These
conclusions may all be true, but they need more explicit mediation.
The short and easy proof of Idealism is not enough. Nevertheless,
as an outline of philosophy, it is doubtful if there is any other book
in English that could be so cordially commended to young students.

SMITH COLLEGE. H. N. GARDINER.

An Introduction to Comparative Psychology. C. L. MORGAN. London,
Walter Scott ; imported by Chas. Scribner's Sons, New York,
1894. Pp. xiv + 382.

Mr. Morgan's 'Introduction to Comparative Psychology' is an
attempt to clear the ground for a science that has suffered thus far
from the homocentric character of psychical analysis as comparative
anatomy and physiology have suffered earlier from the almost exclu-
sive interest that centered in the human organism.

With this end in view Mr. Morgan starts with the postulate of a
monism. He is not, however, convinced of its necessity as a basis

4OO GENERAL.

for comparative psychology, and warns, in a note, all those to whom
philosophic speculation has no attractions to pass over his prolego-
mena.

It is true that his subsequent analysis may be followed out from
a dualistic standpoint. It is, for his practical analysis, a matter of
indifference to Mr. Morgan whether physical and psychical be re-
garded as two aspects of the same entity or whether we conceive
them as simply running parallel with each other. His thought is
dominated by the analogy of the two aspects of the curve. It is
certainly a matter of indifference to one who would study these two
aspects, as respects their directions and mutual relations, whether
he sees them as two aspects of one line or as the corresponding
aspects of two lines that run parallel with each other.

It is in terms of just such tangible analogies that Mr. Morgan
does most of his thinking. The whole treatise is built on three of
them : (a) that already named between the two aspects of a curve
and the parallel physical and psychical phenomena, (b) the analogy
between a wave in an undulating medium and consciousness, and (c)
that between our recognition of consciousness in another being and
the inference a clock might make by means of the relation between
its hands and its own inner works to the inner works of another
clock from the position of its hands. These analogies cannot lay
claim to any great novelty ; their value lies in their simplicity and
lucidity.

Such analogies, however, are at best makeshifts. They inevi-
tably carry with them much error because they are analogies, /. e.,
concepts which, for the sake of concreteness, are but incompletely
analyzed and abstracted. We are very definitely of the opinion that
psychology, especially comparative psychology, needs, on the con-
trary, a thoroughgoing analysis of its fundamental concepts to put it
upon its feet.

Experimental psychology fares, to be sure, about as well with
the incomplete analysis as it would with the most searching, because
the most that such an analysis could do would be to justify it in its
use of the methods of physics and physiology. The theoretical
stage in no science has done much more than justify and free the
methods which had been worked out in its first period of discovery.
Experimental psychology would profit greatly by such a freeing of
its tools, i. e., in the definite formulation of a psychological method
as ultimately distinct from those of the physical and biological
sciences. Still it suffers as yet no serious set-back through this
lack of definiteness in its own territory. A capital error, such as is
involved in 'Fechner's law,' will hardly be committed again.

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 4OI

But the case stands quite differently with comparative psy-
chology. The experimental psychologist has the test of immediate
experience for the distinction which he makes between the physical
and the psychical. The reality of the distinction is justified by the
success of the life processes that assume it. The experimenter has
therefore only to follow rigidly the essential reactions that make up
his life and he need not go astray. This is but another statement
for the assertion that the distinction between the physical and
the psychical is an immediate datum of experience. And one must
go a step further than this ; the distinction between the physical
and the psychical in others is as really an immediate datum of
experience. We are as essentially social beings as physical and
physiological beings, despite the analogy of the clocks. (We must
deprecate the reappearance of this spook of Paley's watch, after its
having been laid in the field of natural theology, to haunt the
domains of a modern science.) The development of the distinction
between the physical and psychical in others proceeds part passu
with that in the child's consciousness of himself — if for no other
reason because he could never form the conception of himself as
psychical without the conception of others. Or again man is
essentially social.

The experimenter therefore runs no more risk of making an
unreal distinction between the physical and psychical in others than
he does in his analysis of his own consciousness. But just in pro-
portion as our analysis leaves the stage of self-consciousness within
which we live, and approaches those points of civilization where we
are no longer perfectly at home, and especially when we leave the
human intelligence quite behind and strive to reconstruct the con-
sciousness of the lower animals, are we at the mercy of dangerous
analogies which were before harmless. These analogies, in their
proper place, serve as illustrations, that is act as stimuli to re-
construct what in all its details is fully within our power. The
analogy of the clocks may serve fairly well to recall to one the pro-
cess by which he revises his social judgment — detects, as it were, a
social hallucination. It is as far from copying the state of con-
sciousness in which a dog recognizes a hostile intruder, as the click
of a calculating machine would be from describing his angry growl
at the loss of half his dinner.

The same criticism holds in regard to the analogy of the wave
of consciousness. This serves excellently to recall the onward
sweep of concentrated attention through the mass of details that
crowd the field of consciousness, and the positions of relative

4O2 GENERAL.

importance which those details hold. But while this illustration
summons up the reality in my consciousness, it is but the most
superficial analysis of attention. This has the unity and direction
of the purposive act, not that of a wave propelled by a vis a tergo.
So that at the point where we are forced to abandon the concrete
reality of our own full reconstructions, the analogy becomes as false
as the reconstruction of Greek life, by the romancer of the Middle
Ages. The Socratic task of substituting analytical definitions for
illustrations is that which faces the comparative psychologist. In
the opinion of the reviewer this can only be successfully met when
the logical process which is the reality of the distinction between
the physical and psychical has been recognized.

UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO. GEO. H. MEAD.

L'Annfa Psychologique. le. annee (1894). H. BEAUNIS and A.
BINET, 1895. Paris, Alcan, 1895. Pp. VII -f- 619.

The value of this excellent publication will be evident at a
glance. Besides the contributions made during the past year from
the Laboratory of the Sorbonne — reported in full, and deserving
later notice — it contains the fullest and most adequate report of the
facilities, equipment of the universities, the details of courses of in-
struction given in the United States that has ever been published.
This excellent paper is from the pen of Prof. E. B. Delabarre. The
curious error of the translator — M. Binet himself — in rendering the
letters of the degree 'Ph.D.' by Docteur en Medicine, is corrected
by a note on p. 619. The final part of the book, devoted to a
bibliography of the literature of psychology, neurology, etc., for the
year 1894, seems to be full and accurate. It comprises 1217 titles:
but quite a large number of these are from the literature of '93, and
it is difficult to see sufficient reason for their presence. Compared
with the recent Index of Warren and Farrand, it runs short about
100 titles by number, but seems to include more supplementary
headings put in as sub-titles 'a,' *b,' etc., throughout. It has more
French titles, as one would expect, and fewer English, than the
American publication. One very grave defect, however, of the
French bibliography, in the opinion of the present reviewer, is that
all the titles are translated into French. The main function of such
a bibliography, one would think, is that of giving to those who con-
sult it exact details of the title, so that it can be ordered from the
booksellers or referred to under its title in libraries. But how can
one write for a book and be sure his order will be understood if
what he orders is only the equivalent in another language of the real

PS YCHOLOGICAL LITERA TURE. 403

title ? I myself have actually had this difficulty, or rather uncer-
tainty, in ordering a title from this Annde. Suppose a Frenchman
ordering Ladd's 'Manuel de Psychologic,' (an imaginary case) which
of the author's three books would he be likely to get? French
readers, on the other hand, are not much benefitted by this preference
for French : for if a man cannot read an English or German title he
is not likely to look up the book all of which is in one of those lan-
guages. The remaining portion of the Annte is an extended collec-
tion of notices of important pieces of work issued during the year,
and seems to have been done with great care and labor. Of course
opinions will differ whether the most important things under each
head have been selected ; but that is unavoidable where selections
-are made at all. On the whole, the compilers of the Anntc are to be
congratulated and thanked. It is pleasant, also, to note their
announcement that the publication is to continue annually.

J. M. B.

Lehrbuch der Psychologic. W. VOLKMANN. 4te. Auf. Ed. by C. S.
Cornelius. 2 vols. Cothen, Schulze, 1894-5. Pp. VII +
511, V + 568.

All psychologists will welcome the fourth edition of the great
work of Volkmann. It has long been a standard work, and although
always partial to the Herbartian wing in its citations of literature no
less than in the theoretical positions of the author, yet it has had
great value as a work of reference. It must be said, however, that
the chief value of the work in the edition before us is to be found in
the 'real essence' — the original work of Volkmann — rather than in
what is added to it by the 'accidents' of editing. The pros-
pectus leads one to believe that the citations of literature, which
have always been an important feature of the work, are well up to
date and very full. Anyone looking for anything of the kind will
be very much disappointed. .The additions made to the literature
at the end of the chapters are marked with an asterisk, and they
turn out to be relatively meagre in the extreme. Having an eye on
the works in English added to the bibliographies, the inadequacy be-
comes extraordinary. Looking under Emotion, I find no reference
to James, nor to the literature which his chapter has called forth.
Similarly, there is no reference to that author in connection with
the Innervationsgefiihl. Indeed, the only reference I have come
across — I have not looked over every page, however, with this in
view — to James' 'Principles' is the citation of the title of the book
in the register of literature at the end. Similarly a search for the

404 GENERAL.

literature of the writers in England shows the defect about equally
marked, Ward, Sidgwick, and others being largely overlooked. This
seems to me to be simply the old case of 'nothing worth know-
ing outside of my own country,' and it is astonishing that the large
sale of earlier editions of the work of Volkmann — if no other con-
sideration availed — did not lead Prof. Cornelius to have the foreign
purchaser somewhat in mind. J. M. B.

Introduction to the Theory of Science and Metaphysics. A. RIEHL.
Translated by A. FAIRBANKS. London, Kegan Paul, Trench,
Triibner & Co., 1894. Pp. VIII -f 346.

It would be hard to find a book in the more recent Kant litera-
ture of Germany whose translation could be more generally welcome
to English and American students than Prof. Riehl's ' Science and
Metaphysics.' The German original of the work forms the con-
clusion of a larger work, ' Der philosophische Kriticismus und seine
Bedeutung fur die positive Wissenschaft,'1 which seems not to be
generally known in this country or England. The work, however,
has been influential in Germany, and this translation of its conclud-
ing part into English is sure to increase its usefulness materially.
Moreover, Prof. Riehl, unlike many German philosophers whose
writings have been translated recently, can congratulate himself
that his book has been rendered into readable English. It should be
said, however, that Prof. Riehl by his own admirable style, by his
unfailing clearness and precision, has done more to assist translation
than some of his compatriots. The German original of the entire
work was reviewed with greatest care some time ago2 by Prof.
Adamson, who paid high tribute to the author's ' completeness of
knowledge and maturity of philosophical reflection,' and recognized
the great value of his statement of Kantianism.

This translation comes at a time when interest in the relation of
science and metaphysics is reviving, or rather when the relation is
getting a positive character. Metaphysical philosophy and science
were not always apart. "The separation," says Prof. Riehl (p. 12),
"of philosophy and science which has resulted in the regard of them
as antitheses dates back no further than the period which in Ger-
many followed Kant This antithesis of philosophy and

science forms only an isolated episode in the history of thought,
which to-day appears to be more than a passing phenomenon only
because it is so near us in time, and which is to be explained from

1 Leipzig, W. Engelmann, 1887.

2 Mind, vol. 14, Jan., 1889, pp. 66 ff.

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE.

405

special causes, namely, the excess of aesthetic culture over scientific
among the German people." The excess of aesthetic culture helps
to explain the distinction between phenomena and things-in-them-
selves, a distinction which in its turn is the explanation of the ex-
clusion of metaphysics from science. The things-in-themselves or
noumena, removed . by Kant so absolutely from the sphere of the
proper activity of the (scientific) reason, became at once the object
of purely philosophical or non-scientific inquiry. They were neces-
sary to Kant's system, but it was unfortunate for his criticism,
doomed to subsequent shocks in history, that he could not be quiet
about them ; to call attention to them was fatal. Kant, then,
denied the right of enquiry to metaphysics ; he reduced metaphysics
to a body of presuppositions ; the inquiring reason could turn only
to natural science ; but his criticism rather stimulated than con-
trolled the reason. The first influence of his philosophy was to
make both philosophy and science extreme, each after its kind, meta-
physics rising in its flights to all appearances far above the support-
ing atmosphere of experience, and science becoming ever more
forgetful of its metaphysical presuppositions. Recent tendencies of
thought, however, show science actually becoming interested in its
presuppositions and philosophy returning to something like its old
character of 'natural philosophy.' But the change only justifies
Prof. Riehl's declaration of the isolated character of the episode or
the passing character of the phenomenon which Kant's philosophy
reports, and one has to wonder that he who saw so clearly could re-
main so loyal to Kantianism. Yet was he altogether loyal ?

In regard to Riehl's Kantianism, Prof. Adamson says in the
review already referred to that the work of Riehl, although in the
treatment of its subject "characterized by so much freshness and
originality of conception, so comprehensive an insight into the rela-
tions of philosophical and scientific problems, and so close a refer-
ence to the general tenor of modern science, as to render it in no
sense a mere re-presentation of the work already achieved by Kant,"
is still no real departure from Kant ; ' the form of expression
is different,' but the difference 'involves no matter of great philo-
sophical significance,' Critical Realism, only another name for
Kantianism, being quite as hostile to metaphysical inquiry. But I
cannot feel that this is altogether fair to Riehl. We may have to
style him a Kantian, — some people depend on epithets, — but there
are tendencies in Riehl's book that are rather treacherous to the
Critical Philosophy. Thus the Critical Realism rests upon a theory
of the immediate perception of the external world, and this involves

406 GENERAL.

a change not to be overlooked of the Kantian conception of scien-
tific knowledge.

Riehl's idea of science is truer, I should say, to psychology, with
its final dependence on introspection, than to ordinary physical or
objective science ; so that, if we put two and two together, he
seems to say that the modern 'natural philosophy,' which has arisen
or is arising with the passing of the antithesis between philosophy
and science, has a psychological point of view, if not also a psycho-
logical content. This may be interpreting Riehl to himself as well
as to others, but present tendencies in philosophy make the interpre-
tation attractive. For through psychology, especially through
experimental and comparative psychology, more than through any
other lines of investigation, science has been brought to a conscious-
ness of its presuppositions, or at least to a consciousness of the fact
that it has presuppositions, and this consciousness is entering into
scientific experience as an all-important factor. Prof. Ladd's recent
book, 'Philosophy of Mind,' is at least in its ideal true to the
tendency here indicated. It shows how science, in spite of Kant or
Kantianism, was doomed to become metaphysically self-conscious as
soon as it should be well within the sphere of psychology. A sen-
tence or two from Morgan's 'Introduction to Comparative Psy-
chology,' a book of perhaps more value for the air that it breathes
than for the words that it speaks, may be quoted here : 'I do not
think that the metaphysics of the subject can be avoided in any such
inquiry [as that of 'mental evolution in all its aspects.'] It is not
a question of metaphysics or no metaphysics, but of good metaphys-
ics or bad.' Metaphysics was once the original sin of the human
reason, whose salvation could come only through the grace of a
purely non-metaphysical science, but in these days original sin is a
doctrine, not a fact, and a doctrine as untenable in psychology as in
religion.

In conclusion let me call attention to the most suggestive turn
that Prof. Riehl gives to Kant's a priori with its criteria of univer-
sality and necessity. He gives to the a priori a social function in
experience. He would substitute for the explanation of knowledge
from the point of view of the individual its explanation through
society. "I am inclined," he says (p. 66), "to believe that with
every perception by man is associated the impulse to communicate
it. Experience is a social concept, not a concept of individual psy-
chology." The bearing of this upon the psychology of language is
evident. It also brings psychology and sociology to what is almost
if not quite an identity. It points the way to relating the psychology

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 407

of Kant at once individualistic and rationalistic to the psychology
of to-day with its double interest in 'ontogenesis* and 'phylogen-
esis.' Its special meaning for Riehl appears in later chapters,
notably in the very valuable chapter on 'Determinism of the Will,*
Part II, ch. III. A. H. LLOYD.

UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN.

SOCIAL PSYCHOLOGY.

(i.) La Sociologie : ses conditions coexistence, son importance scientifique el
philosophique. M. BERNES. Revue de Metaphysique, Mars, 1895.

(2.) Sur la mtthode de la sociolcgie. M. BERNES. Revue Philos.,
Mars and Avril, 1895.

In (i) M. Bernes presents an eminently judicious and philo-
sophical view of the object and method of sociology, and in (2) he
applies his principles to a criticism of Durkheim's articles noticed in
the REVIEW for May. The two dominant characteristics of contem-
porary sociology are declared to be (a), imitation of natural science
(especially biology), and (b) absolute opposition to subjective (psy-
chological) sociology under all its forms, in particular the refusal to
attribute any role to the reflective will of the members of society.
These two characteristics are sources of fundamental errors. To
make sociology purely 'objective* is to deprive it of its essential
character ; and just in proportion as we make it abstract, objective,
mathematical, ^are we in danger of leaving out the distinguishing
mark of intelligent action. To give any meaning to economic, legal
or political institutions of the past, we have to think ourselves into
the state of society which they express, to interpret them by internal
psychological causes. The common fault of both subjective and
objective sociology is to identify the subjective with the individual ;
whereas by looking within we may pass the bounds of individuality
as truly as by looking without. The society of which we form a
part is within us as truly as we are in it. Sociability, more or less
conscious, is as truly an element in the social reality of the present
as is any objective social phenomenon. On the other hand, there is
no ideal but in relation to a reality already existing ; the existing
solidarity is the occasion for the subjective practical or moral appre-
ciation of things or actions which in turn becomes an important fac-
tor in future development. For society is a 'becoming* as well as
a thing. Every collective aspiration which by its realization results
in consolidating the group, in making it at once more complex, more

408 CRIMINOLOG Y.

plastic, more conscious of itself, becomes thereby a cause of pro-
gress. In proportion as society is better distinguished from every
other reality and corresponds better to its definition, — in proportion,
that is, as it creates itself — it becomes more completely an object
of science ; but of a science whose laws are at once objective and
ideal, expressing relations between what is already in existence and
that which, while not yet existing, has already begun to be.

The most important addition made by (2) to the conceptions
above noted is that of the psychological and social significance of
action as relating the individual and the social. On the one hand,
every state of consciousness is already an action, at least by antici-
pation ; action is a principle of expansion which sets us in some
fashion outside ourselves, and would cease to be action if we could
make it entirely individual and internal. Thus by action the psy-
chological and subjective life takes on already a social value. But,
on the other hand, action is not wholly comprehended within the
subjective idea of an internal principle of activity ; it exists only by
virtue of a sum of objective conditions which give it a body and a
form, and without which it would be reduced to a mere potenti-
ality— that is, to an abstract and fictitious entity. Action is thus
the most elementary datum of social psychology. It is the bond
between subjective and objective, between actual and ideal. It is
the concrete fact from which these opposing terms are derived.

UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO. J. H. TUFTS.

CRIMINOLOGY.

Naturgeschichtc des Verbrechers. Grundzilge der criminellen Anthro-
pologie und Criminal-psychologic. H. KURELLA. Stuttgart, Enke,
1894. Pp. 284.

Dr. Kurella, the author of this 'Science of the Criminal,' is the
medical director of the insane asylum at Brieg, in Silesia, where he
has had good opportunities for the study of criminals. During ten
years he has carefully examined many hundreds of cases of insane
criminals. He has also carefully studied the somewhat abundant
literature on criminology that has been published during the last
few years. As a result of his observations and reading he has
become deeply impressed by the theories of Professor Lombroso of
Turin, and in his introduction declares his enthusiastic adherence to
the theory advanced by Lombroso, that there is a certain peculiar
and distinct type of irreclaimable criminal, described as delinquent^
nato, who is, so to speak, fatally predetermined to crime, being the
genuine born criminal.

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 409

The author thinks that sufficient observations have been made
and results published to form the basis of a work giving the funda-
mental principles of criminal anthropology and criminal psychology.
He believes that such a work will be specially useful to doctors con-
sulted about criminals, to psychiatrists, judges, and all deeply con-
cerned with the problem of the treatment of criminals. He there-
fore proceeds to give a summary of the chief results compiled by
many recent writers on criminology. He specially mentions Prof.
Lombroso, Turin ; Prof. E. V. Hofman, Vienna ; Dr. Sommer,
Allenberg ; Prof. Benedict, Vienna ; Dr. Mingazinni, Rome ; Prof.
Dr. v. Tschisch, Dorpat ; Dr. J. Karlowicz, Warsaw ; Dr. Wesnic,
Belgrade. In his register of authors consulted, we find some 162
names, some of whom have been cited as frequently as thirty-five
times. A work of 284 pages, giving an epitome of the tabulated
results of so many writers, cannot be summarized in a brief review.
To show the need of a more extensive study of criminals, he
gives a mass of statistics to prove that crime is greatly increasing.
It occurs to one in reading these statistics to ask, Are these conclu-
sive evidence of the increase of crime, or of increased vigilance in
the detection and punishment of crime? Do we mean by 'criminal'
those who are arrested for crime ? And the suspicion arises that
statistics are being used uncritically, and that the examination of
the meaning of 'criminal' is neglected. We think this distrust will
increase as the reader proceeds.

I. Criminal Anthropology. — The author first treats of anatomical
peculiarities of criminals. Diagrams and explanations are given of
methods of craniometry. Tables showing characteristics of crim-
inals in the general shape of the skull and structure of particular
parts. Exact measurements corroborate the common suspicion of
the low and retreating forehead. A list is given of marks of degen-
eracy or atavism frequently found. A detailed reference is given to
structural varieties of the following : the ear, breast, sexual organs,
beard, hair, excess in number of fingers, etc. ; arrested development
of organs ; acquired characters, e. g., tattooing.

II. Under 'biological factors,' he discussed nourishment and
digestion, susceptibility to feeling, motor characteristics. Under
'Heredity' he gives interesting tables of criminal families through
several generations (or degenerations!), showing the interconnec-
tion of nervous diseases, pauperism, alcoholism, insanity, prostitu-
tion, suicide, etc. The condensation of the book may be judged
from the fact that, after referring to Dugdale's well-known ' The
Jukes' as 'the most valuable contribution to criminal heredity,'

4 1 0 CRIMINOLOG Y.

its results are presented in little more than half a page. He next
discusses the criminal 'milieu.' Then gives a * physiognomy of
criminals,' with illustrations that remind one of Lavater. In nearly
every case we notice smallness of head, or at least smallness of the
fore part of the head. Frequently we see the following : Large
under jaw and high cheek-bones ; prognathic, platycephalic, ska-
phocephalic, parietal and occipital regions of skull large with small
frontal region. Deformities of ears and lips. One particular form
of ear is regarded as peculiarly indicative of the criminal. It seems
that Mozart had this 'fatal ear.' His aberration from crime to
music is explained by saying that this is not the only example of a
close affinity between genius and degeneration ; adding that the same
excessive development of the sense of hearing, indicated by the
extra development of the external ear muscle, is common to the
musical genius and the burglar who partakes in the plundering in-
stincts of the carnivora with the necessary accompaniment of acute
hearing.

III. Criminal Psychology. — The author first discusses the theory
of 'moral insanity.' He prefers Lombroso's assumption of the born
criminal — delinquente nato — having the following peculiarities :

(i.) Parasitic tendencies very pronounced. (2.) Honor and
truthfulness, regarded by the author as late products of civilization,
are utterly lacking in the criminal who reverts to an earlier type.
(3.) An interesting account is given of the traditions, codes and
vagabond-slang-langUage of criminals.

IV. Under moral concepts and passions, he says : There is no
thought of the future in the criminal ; he acts in accordance with
the passion of the moment ; consequently all attempts to prevent
crime by threats or by making an example of convicted offenders
are futile. The criminal utterly lacks sympathy and pity. He is
reckless, cruel, lazy ; despises work as beneath his dignity, prides
himself on being a criminal, craves notoriety, and desires to become
a 'virtuoso' in crime. The author outlines a psychology of Ethics
of Criminology, and quite significantly accepts Mr. Herbert Spen-
cer and Lombroso as his authorities. Everything must be explained
by feelings. A sentence will indicate the author's standpoint :
" Now, the most superficial observation of children — and no one has
shown this more clearly than Lombroso — will make evident that
pity and the feeling of right are in the first place acquired, and in
the congenital lack of these feelings the criminal is like all children "
(p. 250). It, is a pity the author did not make even a superficial
examinatisn of children instead of giving us the dicta of Lombroso.

PS YCHOLOGICAL LITER A TURE. 4 1 1

Would not a very little observation and reflection make evident that
the child, not being self-conscious, is neither positively selfish nor
positively unselfish, but simply non-self-ish. Surely the instinctive
actions of the child would be less incorrectly regarded as social than
as aggressively anti-social — which is the meaning of lack of pity in
the case of the criminal. We confess that we are deeply disap-
pointed with the chapter on Criminal Psychology. There seems to
be evidence of a very slight acquaintance with the general psy-
chology, psychology of ethics and theory of ethics of the normal
type ; not only so, but there are references of contempt for those
branches of study. Yet the author has followed recent discussions
sufficiently to cast in his lot thus: "The psycho-physiological theory
of moral conduct, as also of crime, is dependent on the psycho-
physiological theory of 'affect.' The ordinary psychologist devotes
altogether too much attention to the examination of the intellectual
side of consciousness ; the student of criminology cannot thus ignore
the passive ' affect'" (p. 252).

In concluding, the author returns to theoretical discussions. He
says : All scientific inquiries into man's conduct must necessarily
assume the deterministic theory as the correct one. If there can be
any scientific account of the criminal's conduct at all, Lombroso's
theory should not be objected to on the score of its fatalism (p. 263).

The author describes his work as an outline of methods, results
and fundamental principles in criminal anthropology and criminal
psychology. He admits that there are two schools, the Italian
school, following Lombroso, endeavoring to establish heredity as the
full explanation of the genuine criminal, whom they term delinquente
nato ; excluding from the explanation the influence of environment
and the results of educative forces ; the other, the French school,
giving a large place to the influence of environment and the signifi-
cance of educative forces in their explanation of the adult criminal.

Now, in a general outline of methods and results, we naturally
expect to see the results and arguments of both sides fairly and
fully presented, and then a decision given in favor of the one re-
garded as most satisfactory. But Dr. Kurella announces at the out-
set that he has adopted Lombroso's position, stands forth as an
advocate and defender of his assumptions, and then gives tabulated
results, mainly selected from Lombroso and those writers who agree
with him. This it seems to us, is not giving an outline of crim-
inology, but rather the details of a defense of the theory of one
party of criminologists. Almost anything may be proved in this
way if one may be allowed to select the facts and neglect everything

4 1 2 CRIMINOL OGY.

that does not fit the theory espoused. It is significant, too, that
the cases examined personally by Dr. Kurella were insane criminals.
Surely we need a more scientific selection under the term * crim-
inal.' When we examine the accumulation of evidence and argu-
ment brought forward to establish Lombroso's ' born criminal ' —
delinquente nato — we find that it is all based on the examination of
adult criminals who have become habituated to crime. Lombroso
and Kurella, viewing these adult (and sometimes insane) criminals
with settled tendencies and formed habits, conclude that they are
impervious to social reformatory influences ; then they conclude
that they must have been at birth incapable of education to good
habits, fatally predetermined from the first to evil and to evil only.
Everything in connection with their character is to be explained
from heredity, nothing allowed to environment and educative efforts.

This, it seems to us, is a fallacy in the speculative sort which
Dr. Kurella is fond of deriding. How can they rule out the influ-
ence of environment and education when, as a matter of fact, these
criminals have been in an environmemt and under a training towards
vice ? If these criminals, tabulated, had been in a contrary envi-
ronment and under proper social influences from birth, and then in
spite of this became irreclaimable criminals, there might be some
plausibility in the view that the genuine criminal nature is inborn
and is utterly incapable of being essentially modified. When it
comes to Lombroso's theory, however, Dr. Kurella seems to be
as fatally predetermined to it as the criminal delinquente nato is to
crime. Bring forward any number of cases of reformation of hard-
ened criminals, he calmly rejoins : we never denied that ordinary
criminals might be reclaimed ; these were not criminals delin-
quente nato.

In spite of these defects in theory, the work is one that should
be widely read, not only by those to whom the author appeals, but
also by psychologists and moralists. It will excite many new
thoughts, suggest new phases of old problems, and help to indicate
how wide a field still awaits the trained psychologist and moralist in
the investigation of the psychology and psychology of ethics of the
criminal. JAMES GIBSON HUME.

UNIVERSITY OF TORONTO.

On the N:w Use of Some Older Sciences. CHARLES L. DANA. Re-
printed from the Medical Record, Dec. 15, 1894. New York,
Trow Directory Co. Pp. 19.

Dr. Dana's article is a summary of the results obtained by Lorn-

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 413

broso, Fere, and others, from anthropometric examinations of crim-
inals. In addition to the well-known facts about the shape of the
skull and the facial expression, he discusses a number of minor
marks : the shape of jaw and cheekbone, the ridge along the centre
of the palate, the shape of the ear, length of third finger, prehensile
foot, etc. The author differs from the Italian school in classing
together criminal, insane and neuropathic degeneracy and refusing
to consider these as different types. From an ethical standpoint
the presence of these marks of degeneracy in an individual "throws
an additional responsibility upon him. * * * We do not excuse the
cripple who attempts to become a sprinter, nor should we excuse
the morally defective who * * * fail to husband the endowments
they possess." A few such sentiments as these will go a long way
toward justifying this science in the eyes of. those who are accus-
tomed to regard it as an example of fin-de-sihle morbidness.

H. C. WARREN.

NEUROLOGY AND BIOLOGY.

// Cervello in relazione con i fenomeni p sic hid. G. MINGAZZINI.
Turin, Fratelli Bocca, 1895. Pp. 204.

This interesting study on the morphology of the cerebral hemi-
spheres of man forms the twenty-second volume in a ' Bibliotheca
Antropologica-Giuridica,' a series to which the best known of the
Italian workers in this field have already contributed. The prob-
lem attacked is the one which dates at least from the days of
Erisistratus — namely, the interpretation of the gyri of the cerebral
hemispheres.

To approach this question properly the comparative anatomy and
embryology of the primate brain is needed ; and assuming both in-
terest and knowledge, the author attacks his subject without further
preface, comparing the foetal human, with the foetal primate brain,
so far as material will permit. The relation found in the length,
angle, position and connections of the important sulci is such that,
in those primates more removed from man, there is far more diver-
gence from the human type than exists between man and the high-
est primates. In ontogeny the similarity in development becomes
less with the increasing age of the individuals, and soon any form
begins to exhibit those features which are distinctive of it at matu-
rity. Thus the characters of the cerebral surface in man are not
superadded to those found in the higher primates when adult, but
to cerebral features exhibited by them when still in the foetal stage.

4 1 4 NE UROL OGY A ND BIOL OG Y.

This is a relation which is perfectly familiar and well recognized in
the case of other organs, but it has never before been thus demon-
strated for the cerebrum.

With the data gathered in this chapter, including many tables of
measurement new and old, the author next attacks the peculiarities
of the cerebral hemispheres according to sex. The use of foetal
material brings out the fact that, in the case of the female, the
seventh to eighth month of foetal life represents a period of accel-
erated growth for the cerebral fissures. Some fissural variations
occur which are characteristic for sex. The definite marks are
slight, however ; and even in the case of the historic question of the
relative development of the frontal lobes, the evidence is still incon-
clusive. As regards race differences, there is little to be said, since
the only way in which peculiarities of fissuration according to race
can be given a value is by estimating the relative frequency of their
occurrence ; and at present the material available from non-Euro-
pean races is too small to warrant a statistical use of it. M. sug-
gests that the brain in the inferior races is wont to show with unusual
frequency variations indicating arrested development ; but even if
unduly frequent, such arrest is certainly slight. When the brains of
eminent men are compared with those of persons with average intel-
ligence, the former are found to be more amply developed. The
third frontal gyrus contributes to this difference, and the variations
are in this locality particularly noticeable. It is to be remarked,
however, that just this gyrus is one of the last to be completed,
and any differences in growth would therefore be most easy
to detect ; whereas changes of the same kind occurring at other
localities might be more readily overlooked. In cases where the
head has been deformed, there are but few records concerning the
brain surface. The studies of Ambialet on the ' Deformation toulou-
saine* being by far the most important. In such instances the effect
of deformation is both general, causing an incompleteness in the
later formation of the gyri and local, as indicated by the fact that,
along the line of the constricting band, the arrest is most marked.
Most instructive is the author's chapter on the criminal brain, since
the data for comparison, in the form of well-constructed tables of
measurements, are very full. When thus examined the criminal
brain exhibits no features which are typical. Among the brains of
criminals are to be found some which show an arrest of fissural devel-
opment, but more than this cannot be said. It may be added that the
theory of confluent sulci and theromorphic fissuration are again left
without support ; and the contention of Benedikt, that such were

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 41$

the characters of the criminal brain, is as completely refuted by this
last study as it already has been by the previous studies of Giacomini,
Eberstaller and Cunningham.

In reviewing the condition of the hemispheres in the insane, the
deaf-mutes and the microcephalies, the author brings together,
especially under the last head, a large number of cases. In all these
groups errors, of development are the only recognizable features, and
these affect principally the later stages of growth. The microce-
phalies exhibit the most diverse forms of fissuration, the value of
which may, so far as the brain is concerned, be estimated on the
basis of the comparative embryology of the primate brain, but the
phylogenetic value, in a broad sense, will depend on the anomalies
•of the other systems correlated with them. Pithecoid characters
having an atavistic value are rare in idiots, rarer in the insane, and
in criminals have never been described; whereas those variations
•which indicate an arrest of development are frequent among the
insane, more frequent among idiots, and most frequent among the
microcephalies. As to the cause of microcephalism and the brain-
markings characteristic of it, these are to be referred to some path-
ological condition which prevented provision for the later periods of
growth, during the early history of individual development.

H. H. D.

Les localisations cerebrates en psychologic. G. HIRTH. Paris, Alcan,
1895-

The author informs us that his aim in this book is to show the
possibility of applying the theory of localization to the problems of
psychology. We do not believe that he has succeeded in his end ;
for, in spite of certain ingenious ideas which one comes across here
and there in the reading, one closes the book with no clear idea of
his theory. As regards the assistance which psychology is to get
from physiology, there is no need of exaggerating it. It was the
fashion some years ago, in the midst of the reaction against meta-
physics, to treat psychology along with physiology ; but we are
aware to-day that that contest is over, and that experimental psy-
chology has acquired its independence. We are able, therefore, to
add that the theories of cerebral localization, which are still hypo-
thetical, do not interest psychology in any direct or fundamental
way. Properly controlled, introspective researches afford us much
more profitable avenues into the heart of our study. A. B.

416 VISION.

Hibernation and Allied States in Animals. WESLEY MILLS. Trans,
Roy. Soc. Canada ; Section IV, 1892. Pp. 49-66.

Dr. Mills reviews the evidence regarding the nature and duration
of hibernation in the woodchuck, squirrel, black bear, bat, and vari-
ous kinds of fish. Passing to the discussion of similar states in man,
he instances three cases, one of which came under his personal ob-
servation, of individuals who remained for long periods in the trance
state. The case referred to is described at some length ; the patient,,
an old woman, had remained in a comatose condition for thirteen
years ; the autopsy showed the absence of any gross lesion of the
brain. — Any explanation of the nature of hibernation must take
account of the fact that all degrees of functional cessation are found,,
from normal sleep to the lowest degree of activity consistent with
the maintenance of life. There is abundant reason to connect these
states together. In sleep the functional activities are lowered ; the
animal, therefore, requires much less food, and its excretions are
greatly diminished. The same laws apply to trance and hiberna-
tion. The hibernation of amphibia, reptilia, etc., is protective,
being the result of adaptation to environment ; this explains equally
well why the trait may be lost when the animal is transferred to a
different environment. H. C. WARREN.

VISION.

Uber die latente Hypermetropie. CL. DU BOIS-REYMOND. Zeitschr_

f. Psych., VIII, 34-43. i894.

When a hypermetropic person makes use of glasses for the first
time, he is at first unable to accommodate sharply for the furthest
portion of his new accommodation-field ; but after short use he
gains control of a portion of this, differing in extent with his age..
The author attempts to explain this phenomenon. By extending
Bonder's presbyopic curve into the first years of childhood, he finds,
a value of about twenty diopters for the earliest accommodation.
Dividing the total activity of the ciliary muscle into twenty parts,
he calls each of these units an entony (Entonie), and assumes that
these units are approximately equal. He further assumes that pres-
byopia is dependent only on diminished elasticity of the lens, and
not at all on a weakening of the ciliary muscle. In case a child is
hypermetropic, it fails to gain practice in making use of the first
entonies, in number corresponding to the diopters, which are un-
used; the whole hypermetropia is latent, and a practical far-point of
accommodation is formed. If in later life glasses are used, these

PS YCHOL 0 GICA L LITER A TURE. 4 1 7

first entonies cannot be accurately controlled ; but the number of
diopters to which they correspond (the latent hypermetropia) dimin-
ishes with age, since with diminishing elasticity of the lens the avail-
able diopters decrease while the entonies remain constant. We may
then formulate the following theory : The practical far-point of ac-
commodation, corresponding to the latent hypermetropia of the first
year of life, remains constant for the muscular activity (/'. <?., meas-
ured in entonies) during the whole life, and forms the limit between
the manifest and the latent hypermetropia, provided no glasses have
been used and the refraction has not changed. The latent hyper-
metropia, diminishing with age, bears a proportion to the total
hypermetropia expressed by the ratio A: 20, where A is the accom-
modation, measured in diopters, belonging to each age.

The author shows that, although the theory is hypothetical, it
yet explains all the facts and accords with the actual measurements
of latent hypermetropia which have been made by Hirschberg and
Daniel.

On the Relation of Accommodation and Convergence to our Sense of Depth.
E. T. DIXON. Mind, N. S., IV, 195-212. 1895.

Dixon repeats and extends the experiments, and criticises the
conclusions, announced by Hillebrand in an article of which an
abstract is given in this REVIEW, Vol. I, p. 540. H.'s experiments
led him to the belief that when all aids except convergence and
accommodation are excluded, we cannot judge distances monocu-
larly ; and that impressions of distance are therefore not produced
by movements either of accommodation or of convergence. Dixon
used the same methods as did H. for excluding ' empirical ' factors,
with some improvements. His results are also largely the same.
When the object of fixation was moved to or from the observer
while he was watching it, there was no accuracy in judging the direc-
tion of movement (first series of experiments). When the object
was rapidly moved out of the field of view, and another at a differ-
ent distance was substituted for it (second series), Dixon found: (i)
that each of his three observers was able in some degree to judge
distances monocularly, but the power of doing so varied greatly in
the three cases ; (2) that the judgment was directly or indirectly
based on the different accommodation required for different dis-
tances ; (3) that the actual criterion seemed in all three cases a differ-
ence in the rapidity or ease with which the accommodation adjusted
itself or was adjusted by the observer, and not (as H. explains these
results) in any conscious direction of the accommodation by the

4i 8 VISION.

observer ; (4) all three observers commenced by interpreting the cri-
terion in the right way (showing its association with the impression
of depth, at least unconsciously, in ordinary life), though later they
differed; (5) Wundt's observation that changes from far to near are
more easily observed than changes from near to far, is not con-
firmed in every case; (6) an absence or defect of accommodating
power may enable a person to judge distance monocularly, but this
is not the way people with normal eyes judge.

Hillebrand's conclusion is based entirely on the negative results
of his first series of experiments. But Dixon shows that the asso-
ciation between convergence and accommodation is a loose one, — in
his own case he found that even at 100 cm. distance he could make
a difference of over six diopters in convergence without affecting
accommodation; that if, in judging distances monocularly, converg-
ence does not actually follow accommodation, it might be that
wrong answers were given in just those cases where the convergence
went wrong; he found, however, no method of observing with cer-
tainty how far this was true; and that the results might also obvi-
ously be attributed, not to absence of, but to too gradual change in,
the feelings of accommodation and convergence. As to the second
set of experiments, the fact that H. "was able to give another ex-
planation, however plausible, of the successes, cannot be held to
prove that sensations of convergence are non-existent;" and the
facts under (3) above do not uphold H.'s explanation. These
experiments do not, therefore, prove, as H. thought they did, that
muscular sensations are of no aid in our judgments of depth.

Experimented Untersuchungen ilber die Gefuhlsbetonung der Farben,
Helligkeiten, und ihrer Combinationen. J. COHN. Philos. Stud.,
X, 562-603. 1894.

Cohn investigated on fourteen persons the relative agreeableness
of different colors and of different combinations of color. His re-
sults were: (i) Of two shades of the same color, the more saturated
is the more pleasing. Among different colors of approximately the
same saturation, the preference appears to depend on individual ten-
dencies, with the exception that yellow is for most observers less
pleasing than the others. (2) In case of equally pleasing compo-
nents, a combination of two colors is the more pleasing the greater
difference there is between the components. (3) Two colorless
brightnesses are the more pleasing in combination the greater their
difference. In comparing single brightnesses, white pleases more
than gray or black. (4) If we combine a color with a varying color-

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 419

less brightness, or two colors of which one varies in brightness,
there is a preference, though less clearly marked, for the greater
difference in brightness.

Even in cultivated people, therefore, accustomed to quiet colors
and to slight color differences, there exists a preference for satu-
rated colors and for strongly-contrasting combinations, when there
is question only of the purely sensory effect, without other consid-
erations. A great many secondary influences, variable and difficult
to determine in full, affect the judgment, but their disturbing effect
can be overcome or diminished by a sufficiently large number of ex-
periments. These preferences are to be explained, not by any
analogy with musical harmony, nor by the effect of simultaneous
contrast, but by the fact that differences of sensation as such pro-
duce pleasurable effects, entirely apart from the modification of the
sensations by one another. E. B. DELABARRE.

BROWN UNIVERSITY.

CONSCIOUSNESS AND IMAGINATION.

Imagination in Dreams and their Study. F. GREENWOOD. London,
John Lane; New York, Macmillan & Co., 1894. Pp. ix -f- 198.
Price, $1.75.

The author's modest purpose 'being only to convey gossiping
hints and suggestions to the generality,' a minute examination of
his book would be ungracious ; but it must be said that, as a book
for the generality, it has serious shortcomings. With the main
thesis that dreams deserve a more thorough and rational study than
they have yet for the most part had, no fault can be found ; the
author's criticisms are often just, and some of his suggestions illu-
minating; but his psychology is antiquated — often more like that of
Bunyan's Mansoul than that of the present ; and too prominent a
place is given to dreams 'which have all the character of prophecy
and revelation.' It is to be regretted that one so well equipped in
other directions, as Mr. Greenwood seems to be, should not have
had the psychological training that would have enabled him to make
a really valuable contribution to the scientific study of dreams,
which he so ably advocates. EDMUND C. SANFORD.

CLARK UNIVERSITY.

Memoir e et Imagination (peintres, musiciens, poltes et orateurs). LUCIEN
ARRE"AT. Paris, Alcan, 1894. Pp. VII +171.

As the author himself tells us, this is only a preparatory study,

42 O CONSCIO USNESS A ND IMA GIN A TION.

an introduction to the more precise investigation, by means of labor-
atory and personal methods, which the topic demands. But even
with such modest pretentions the book does good service, for it pre-
sents many subtle and ingenious ideas. The first part, devoted to
memory, includes musicians, poets and orators. M. Arreat exam-
ines them in turn on motor, visual, auditory, emotional, and intel-
lectual memory.

It is impossible to sum up briefly so many facts, but we may note
in passing that Victor Hugo had enormous command of verbs, but
no exceptional stock of qualifying adjectives of a visual kind.

The second part, devoted to imagination, appears to be quite as
interesting as the first, and newer. He includes under imagination
the facts of manual skill, the movement-memories of the fingers of
the designer, the rich verbal flow of the orator, the incidents of his
piece in the case of the dramatist. Then he describes the creation
of a work of art (p. 127): i. The conception, whether conscious
or not, finished or not ; 2. The execution, which is not alone
the development of the thought : it reacts upon the thought and
modifies it ; 3. The emotional state which accompanies the execu-
tion ; 4. The critical judgment by which the author accepts or re-
jects what comes to him ; 5. A certain doubling of consciousness
which results in two different attitudes of mind. Finally, the author
draws an interesting analogy between imagination and delirium, and
shows that the difference resides in the evident control by the intel-
ligence in the former. A. BINET.

In what Sense are Psychical States Extended? F. H. BRADLEY. Mind,

N. S., IV, 225-235. April, 1895.

In a previous article Mr. Bradley discussed the intensity of
mental states, maintaining that they possessed degree in various
respects, and were in principle, if not in actual practice, measurable
quantities. Incidentally he asserted that they, or at least some of
them, possessed extensive quantity as well (see this REVIEW, II,
319). To this last point he now recurs. The general principle is
that ultimately everything is psychical ; but for the purposes of the
discussion the less sweeping form of statement is adopted — that any
feature of content which makes the meaning of an idea must be
present psychically. It is on this principle that mental states are
said to have weight and odor, to be long and broad. In what sense,
then, is the extension which is predicated of a physical object also
in the soul ? It is true the physical extended is not present psychi-
cally in its full process, and there may even be doubts as to the

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 421

extent to which we possess the abstract feature of its extension ;
still, up to a certain point at least, the extension which we have
psychically present is the same as that which qualifies nature. The
objection that if psychical states are extended they will collide with
one another or with other extended things, is groundless. Spatial
things need not be related spatially at all. The soul contains many
disparate extensions. Is, then, the soul extended ? In respect of
certain of its states, the answer must be as given ; but in itself, and
as a whole, the answer is emphatically, No. For extension is for it
not an all-pervasive, but only a particular and subordinate quality ;
whereas in the physical world it is taken as primary and pre-
dominant.

By way of appendix, Mr. Bradley formulates his doubts respect-
ing the 'extensity' regarded by James and Ward as lying at the
basis of our perceptions of space. These writers, he says, unite in
what are perhaps two errors : claiming to observe extensity as a fact
and denying in effect all non-extensive volume. Volume, he finds,
indeed, everywhere, but either as implying space outright or as in-
volving something less than extensity. By extensity he apparently
understands the quality of 'side-by-sideness.' Nevertheless, while
declining to identify volume with extensity, he goes on to mention
two aspects of volume — viz., 'its intensiveness and its extent' as
present and given, but not distinguished and developed, even in mere
volume. But is not this undistinguished and undeveloped aspect of
extent present, as Mr. Bradley implies, in all sensations, precisely
what Ward, wrongly, perhaps, denying plurality to the intensive
aspect, means by that 'latent or merged plurality' by which he
defines 'extensity?' Whether extensity, in this sense, can be now
observed is a separate question. Mr. Bradley admits that some
such quality must be postulated. H. N. GARDINER.

SMITH COLLEGE.

EXPERIMENTAL.

Ueber die Beeinflussung einfacher psychischer Vorgdnge durch horperliche
und geistige Arbeit. SIEGFRIED BETTMANN. Psychol. Arbeiten,
I, 152-208. 1895.

Herr Bettmann's paper is a study of the mental fatigue effect of
physical and psychical work. To secure uniform conditions, the
experiments were all made immediately after awaking, the duration
of sleep being carefully regulated. The subject (the author him-
self) arranged his mode of life methodically, avoiding any excite-

422 EXPERIMENTAL.

ment or labor outside of that required for the tests, and abstaining
from tea, coffee and stimulants during the entire period covered by
the experiments. The mental labor consisted in adding columns of
figures for an hour ; the physical labor chosen was to walk rapidly
for two hours. The two tasks were performed on different days ;
at the close of the exercises a series of Choice Reactions were made.
To furnish material for comparison, a reaction series was made on
other days at the same hour without preliminary exercise. The sub-
ject had already reduced his reaction-time by weeks of preliminary
practice. The results show : (i) for normal days (/'. <?., without
exercise) a slight reduction of the average time during the first sixty
reactions, then a gradual increase to about 3000- at the end of 300
reactfons ; (2) for the days of mental exercise, a very constant aver-
age of about 380 <r during the entire series of 300 reactions ; and (3)
for days of bodily exercise, a steady decrease of the times from about
3000- to 2300- — some of the figures running as low as 1900-. On the
other hand, the last case shows about 25 per cent, of anticipations
to i per cent, for the tests following mental exercise, and 2.5 per
cent, for normal days.

The results indicate that mental impairment follows from physi-
cal as well as from psychical labor ; in the latter case the reaction-
times are shorter, but the enormous number of anticipations neu-
tralize any gain from this source. Some further experiments, in
which the tests were word-reactions and the facility of learning
twelve-place numbers respectively, serve to accentuate this effect :
as the difficulty of the tests was increased, the apparent advantage
of the physical exercise was rapidly lost.

The author criticises the results of Mosso and Vintschgau, on
the ground that their conditions of experimentation were too com-
plex to admit of discrimination between various affecting influences;
in his own experiments the conditions were as simple and uniform as
it seems possible to make them. H. C. WARREN.

Minor Studies from the Psychological Laboratory of Clark University :
under the direction of E. C. SANDFORD. VIII. A Study of Indi-
vidual Psychology, CAROLINE MILES. IX. The Memory After-
image and Attention, A. H. DANIELS. X. On the Least Observable
Interval between Stimuli Addressed to Disparate Senses, and to
Different Organs of the same Sense. XI. Notes on New Appara-
tus, E. C. SANDFORD. Am. Jour. Psych., VI, 534-584. Jan.,
1895-
VIII. The psychologist cannot hope to solve all his problems by

PS YCHOLOGICAJ. LITER A TURE. 42 3

experiments in the laboratory. Some questions can be solved only
by introspection. If, however, introspective results are to be of
value, they must be confirmed by others. The method advocated
by Miss Miles is to make a list of such introspective questions, and
obtaining answers from a large number of people, to secure thus a
vast amount of valuable data. Of course there are difficulties. The
answers of untrained observers are naive and unreliable. Many
subjects are unconsciously influenced either by aversion to revealing
an undesirable phase of their inner life or by the desire to give
results satisfactory to the experimenter. Notwithstanding these
difficulties the method is valuable ; more, however, for its suggest-
iveness than for the actual results obtained.

The following headings will indicate the character of the ques-
tions asked of 100 Wellesley women : I. Habits of discrimination
and memory ; II. Methods of concentrating attention and of get-
ting asleep ; III. Emotions and preferences ; IV. Recollections of
childhood ; V. Miscellaneous.

IX. These experiments (as those of XI) are interesting from
their bearing upon the attention. This study aims to estimate the
duration of memory after-images — a phenomenon familiar to all psy-
chologists. The memory after-image is differentiated from memory
by association — by distracting the attention as far as possible from
the sensation when received. A group of three digits was pro-
nounced while the attention was distracted by the reading aloud of
interesting stories, and the subject was required after a given inter-
val to reproduce them. The intervals were o, 5, 10, 15 and 20 sec.

It was found that the longer the interval the less probability
there is that the reproduction will be correct. Less than 15 sec. is
the limit ; beyond this the images could not be reproduced. If per-
fect distraction could be attained, .this limit could be decreased
almost indefinitely. If, however, the digits return to consciousness
before the given interval has elapsed — to which, as it is important
to note, there is a great tendency — the limit is considerably extended
(perhaps to 20 sec.) and greater exactness is attained. As we
should expect, there are more errors with the first and second digits
than with the third. The article concludes with a comparison of
these experiments with, those of Dietze and Wolfe.

X. "The object of the following experiments was a remeasure-
ment of this interval for single pairs of stimuli under varying condi-
tions of the attention." In the first series, with unforced attention,
an important result is the unanimity of the requirement of a longer
interval for the 'click-flash ' combination than for the 'flash-click.'

424 EXPERIMENTAL.

This is interesting, as it is 'flatly opposed' to the results of Exner
in all his seven subjects. Exner's data being false, his explanation
that the F.-C. requires a longer interval, because of 'the slower rise
and greater duration of the visual sensation,' is, of course, invalid.
The author favors the explanation of the differences in the intervals
by the movements of the attention (Wundt) rather than by 'sensory
inertia.'

In the second series, with forced attention, it was found, con-
trary to expectation, that voluntarily attending to a specific stimulus
has no appreciable tendency to make it appear to precede the other.
The best results were obtained, not when the attention was pread-
justed, but when the subject was in a state of 'alert indifference.'
An explanation of this preadjusted attention is suggested. We de-
cide upon the order of the occurrence of stimuli, not by the order
of the sensations resulting thereby, but by the order of the sensa-
tions from the reflex movements in the adjustment of the organs in
response to the stimuli. If the attention be preadjusted, the sense-
organs are more or less adapted, and consequently the reflex move-
ments being more obscure, the judgment is correspondingly un-
certain.

XI. Four new pieces of apparatus are here described. The
Binocular Stroboscope is an instrument devised by Prof. Sandford
for demonstrating a 'little-known' phenomenon of binocular vision
— viz., the definite localization of a moving object due to an instan-
taneous glimpse by each eye in succession. There are also de-
scribed, 'A Model of the Field of Regard ;' 'A Simple Adjustable
Stand,' which can be put to a variety of uses ; and 'The Pendulum
Circuit Breaker,' an instrument "designed to break electrical cur-
rents at known and regulable intervals of time from one another."
This last instrument was used in the experiments of Study X to
obtain an exact interval between the application of the different
stimuli. W. J. SHAW.

Minor Studies from the Psychological Laboratory of Cornell University.
Communicated by E. B. TITCHENER. VI. Taste Dreams. E. B.
TITCHENER. VII. On the Quantitative Determination of an Optical
Illusion. R. WATANABE. VIII. The Cutaneous Estimation of
Open and Filled Space. C. S. PARRISH. Amer. Jour, of Psy.,
VI» 5°5-523- Jan., 1895.

VI. This study aims to show that the explanation of dreams,
adduced in connection with the other sensations, is adequate for
gustatory dreams also. Dreams are of two kinds : presentative

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 425

(occasioned by a peripheral stimulus) and representative (due to
central excitation). The tendency of psychology is to emphasize
more and more the relative importance of the peripheral stimulus ;
thus the Eigenlicht of the retina explains the great predominance of
visual dreams.

The number of taste dreams is relatively small. Miss Calkins
(A. J. of Ps., V) reports only two in a total of 335 dreams, and none
in a total of 298. While without doubt the majority of dreams of
the gustatory type are representative, we have no right to assume
that they are all presentative any more than we have to assume
that all visual dreams are presentative, because the retina is in con-
tinuous excitation. In conclusive support of this, five taste dreams
were collected, all representative. Two of these are described —
one a case of auto-suggestion, being experienced by the author
himself.

VII. This article is a continuation of an investigation of the
illusion of point and dotted line distance begun by Mr. Knox (A. J.
of P., VI, 3). The apparatus consisted of a set of cards, on each of
which was placed a line, made up of a dotted line, and a point distance,
the centre of the line coinciding with the centre of the card. Knox,
by keeping the point-distance constant, and varying the dotted line
until the subject judged them equal, found, besides confirming the
illusion itself, that the mean variation of the vertical differences is
not greater than that of the horizontal. This result was unex-
pected, because "binocular bisection of horizontal distances is not
subject to any constant error," while of vertical lines we constantly
over-estimate the upper part.

Dr. Watanabe, 'in the hope of elucidating this difficulty,' con-
ducted a similar series, except that for him the dotted line is the
constant. His results on three subjects confirm those of Knox, in
showing not only that the illusion itself prevails in all cases, but
also that the vertical differences have not a greater mean variation
than those of the horizontal. In regard to this latter, he says :
" The fact itself holds, [but] we are not at present prepared to sug-
gest any explanation."

VIII. It has been amply proven by experiment that, to the eye,
filled space invariably appears greater than empty space, objectively
equal. This has been explained by the fact that the movements of
the eye are more retarded in the case of filled space. Dresslar (A.
J. of Ps.) maintains that the same illusion holds in the case of touch,
and the same explanation — viz., movement plus touch- — is adequate.
Prof. Parrish maintains that, 50 far from Dresslar's explanation

426 EXPERIMENTAL.

being adequate, the alleged facts on which it is based are not true —
/. e., filled space is not judged by touch as greater than empty space.
On the contrary, he shows by two series of experiments upon seven
reagents that filled space is judged actually shorter.

In the first series, nine pieces of wood were used, to each of
which was attached a number (varying from two to nine) of small
rubber projections, the distance between the extremes being con-
stant— 64 mm. These were applied to wrist and forearm. The
result shows ''that for a resting skin a filled distance is, on the
average, shorter than an empty distance objectively equal to it."

In the second series, the apparatus consisted of a strip of rubber
.01 in. in thickness (for filled space) and an sesthesiometer (for
empty space). The results here confirm the first ; filled space is
invariably judged shorter than open space — e.g., "an open space of
24 mm. is judged equal to a filled line of 28 mm., and one of 15 to
a filled line of 20." The author concludes that these experiments
upon resting skin, showing an illusion opposite to that of sight,
clearly support the explanation of the latter in terms of movement.

WESLEYAN UNIVERSITY. W. J. SHAW.

Ueber den Einfluss der Geschwindigkeit des Pulses auf die Zeitdauer der
Reactionszeit bet Schalleindriicken. Ueber den Einfluss der
Geschwindigkeit des Pulses auf die Zeitdauer der Reactionszeit bei
Licht und Tasteindriicken. — J. J. VAN BTERVLIET, (Phil. Stud.,
X, pp. 160 if ; XI, i, pp. 125-135.

In these two papers are communicated the results of the first
part of an investigation undertaken by Professor van Biervliet in the
psychological laboratory at Ghent to determine the influence of the
circulation of the blood upon the length of the reaction time. The
present communications report upon modifications in the duration of
the simple reaction to stimuli of sound, light and touch, accompany-
ing varying rates of pulse beat. Further investigation will concern
itself with the effects of changes in blood pressure.

In all, 17 different observers took part and the results of
6800 experiments are reported. The subjects were given prelimin-
ary practice. The experiments were made in series of 20; before
each series, the pulse rate at the wrist was determined by two
independent observations. The ordinary set of apparatus was
employed, including the Hipp chronoscope, a hammer to give the
sound stimulus, the Leipzig pendulum for the light stimulus, and for
touch a hammer, which was allowed to drop upon the first joint of
the middle finger. The subject sat in a dark room apart. In the

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 427

sound series, each subject made 400 reactions in all; in the light and
touch series, results are collated from 200 ' useable* reactions of
each individual. The reactions are designated as sensory. The bell
signal was given 5 seconds before the stimulus in each experiment.
In the sound series the stimuli followed one another at one minute
intervals; in light and touch, at 15 seconds.

Typical results are the following: In the sound series the reaction
time of one subject diminished from 130 to 117 as the pulse rate
increased from 70 to no beats per minute; a second subject
decreased in reaction-time from 144 to 130 with a pulse rate increas-
ing from 70 to 100 ; a third from 154 to 130 with pulse rate increas-
ing from 70 to 100. With the light stimulus, a pulse rate increasing
from 60 to 80 gave a reaction-time decreasing from 187 to 174; one
of 60 to no gave reaction-time of 208 to 123; a third increasing
from 80 to 100 gave decreasing reactions of 209 to 176. With the
touch stimulus, pulse rate increase from 60 to 100, reaction-time
decrease from 209 to 176; pulse rate increase 70 to 90, reaction-
time decrease 186 to 150; pulse rate increase 80 to 100, reaction-
time decrease 167 to 164; pulse rate 80 to 100, reaction-time 175
to 164.

From these results, Professor van Biervliet concludes that as a rule,
the time of a reaction diminishes with an increase in the pulse rate.
He finds however that with the pulse at a minimum and especially
at a maximum, the variations in the reaction-time do not follow this
rule. Differences in pulse rate, therefore, may produce remarkable
changes in the duration of the reaction-time. In all investigations
into the phenomena of attention in which the length of the reaction-
time is used as a means of analysis, it would seem necessary in con-
sequence to give some consideration to the condition of the pulse.

These conclusions of Professor Biervliet are not justified by his
tabulated results. The average results of the individual series do
follow his theory closely, but the large mean variations in conjunc-
tion with the small differences in the averages of reaction-times,
make the experiments entirely negative. In nearly every case the
mean variation of the single experiments from the average results of
the series is larger than the maximum difference in reaction-time for
the extremes of pulse rate. A pulse of about 70 beats per second
gave an average reaction-time of 130, while one of no beats
gave 117. This result may or may not be significant of real differ-
ence in reaction-time, depending upon the number of experiments
composing the average result and the size of the mean variation of
the individual experiments from this result. In the case taken, the

428 MOVEMENT.

mean variation was about 30. This result only signifies that with a
pulse of 70 beats, the reaction-time lies between 100 and 160, while
with one of no beats it lies between 87 and 147. There is no ex-
perimental evidence in the result to show that with a pulse beat of
70 the reaction-time may not be 100 and with one of no it may not
be 147. The difference between a reaction-time of 167 and 164,
both averages obtained with mean variations of 16, and that between
175 and 164 averages with mean variations of 18, are purely acciden-
tal. To prove that results differing so slightly are significant of
a real difference, the mean variation must not be greater than i or
2 and the experiments must be more than a few score in number.

In the interests of psychometry, it may be well to call attention
to the importance of giving the mean variation of the recording
instruments. It is very probable, that a large part of the variation
in the results is due to the variable error of the apparatus. This
ought to be greatly reduced. The number of practice experiments
ought to be given, and the results of practice series ought not to be
rejected from the final showing. It is desirable to know what is the
nature of the practice in which the subject learns to react and what is
the effect of that practice upon the result. Further, the value of all
results would be increased if it were reported how many and under
what conditions results were excluded "because they varied too much
from the average ".

UNIVERSITY OF PENNSYLVANIA. LIGHTNER WITMER.

MOVEMENT.

L'Ecriture et le caractere. J. CREPIEUX-JAMIN. Paris, Alcan, 1895.

Pp. 442.

Although there is no such science as graphology, and no such
men as graphologists, and although it might well be asked what in-
terest attaches to the study of handwriting, nevertheless it is certain
that the study itself is attractive and useful. Handwriting involves
the most complicated and delicate of acquired movements : it is
comparable in this respect with the movements necessary to hold
and play an instrument ; besides, as its purpose is the translation of
thought and emotion, it possesses an expressive function, just as
mimicry and gesture do. These two reasons appear to me to be
more than sufficient to make desirable the profound study of hand-
writing. But a second question arises ; that of method. It is evi-
dent that a simple method is necessary here as elsewhere ; that of
observation, first of all, of writing as a kind of movement, with an

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 429

analysis of the different elements of movement which enter into it ;
taking account of the pressure, rapidity, etc., with description of
the form. There are psycho-physical instruments which might be
used for this analysis. Then, following this study of normal writ-
ing, that of its various modifications, especially the influence of age.
What are the principal marks of handwriting from the first pot-
hooks of the child ? What are the modifications due to old age ?
Are there family characteristics ? Can we detect any hereditary
influence apart from the influence of imitation ? Then would come
the disturbances of handwriting : the influence of cold, fatigue,
alcohol, and various poisons, disturbances due to disease, etc. In
short, handwriting should be put to the same series of tests that all
physiological facts are put to.

It must be confessed that psychologists have rarely followed
such a truly scientific method. And although M. Crepieux-Jamin is
undoubtedly one of the most serious and exact of graphologists, he
yet makes no use of the method of observation and experiment,
except incidentally. Indeed, research in this subject seems to have
been badly oriented from the first. The most complex and difficult
questions have been put, such as the reading of the writer's charac-
ter in his handwriting. We have all had curiosity in regard to let-
ters, and have tried to attach to the writing some information about
the writer ; but to understand the difficulty of it, one has only to
call to mind what a complex thing we mean by character. There is
nothing more complex, more changing, more vague. So how can
we attack such a problem ? The early graphologists did not state
their method, if, indeed, they had any. They took the attitude of
those who found it necessary to keep a monopoly. Their succes-
sors, especially Lavater and the Abbe Michon, did make their
method known ; and it may be described in two words — intuitive
and analytic. The first describes a sort of subconscious divination
founded on long experience. The second process discovered a cer-
tain number of signs in the writing, each of which is capable of
direct interpretation. M. Crepieux-Jamin adopts this second method,
although making a certain use also of intuition. He reaches the
most minute rules of procedure. In order to reach good results, he
says it is necessary to have a large number of writer's specimens ;
while the writing on official documents is worthless, that of private
letters is most valuable. There are three stages in the interpreta-
tion of the signs : first, general signs, such as clearness, angle of the
letters, etc. Then come particular signs, such as the identity of
'n' and 'u,' that of the way 't' is crossed, etc. And, finally, in

430 ETHICAL.

order to complete the psychological portrait of the writer, one must
study the evolution involved — a very delicate task — which consists
of a judgment of the effect produced upon the writing by the addi-
tion of one mental quality to another. . . . Some of the author's
analyses under this last head are very fine, and this part of his book
is very pleasant reading. But from the point of view of science, the
newest portion of his book is useless — that which deals with hand-
writing under irregular conditions. In it he finds thirty-nine differ-
ent signs, each of which has a special psychological significance.

All this does not constitute science ; it is simply exposition.
And the tone of authority which may be put into an affirmation does
not increase its demonstrative force. The feeblest mar of the bookk
is lack of proof. . . If we should attempt to show what the author
has not done in this respect, we should begin by citing the proposi-
tion that writing is a kind of gesture or a series of small gestures ;
and that the relation of writing to character can be made out only
on the basis of this analogy with gesture (p. 37); so far we go with
him. But he then establishes a series of presumptions on the proba-
ble value of writing. . . And in it all, as in his treatment of graphic
signs, he gives only what is vague and ambiguous.

Yet he has collected in his useless chapter on ' Experimental
Graphology' some interesting experiments made upon himself. He
tried writing five or six lines under varying conditions, such as heat,
cold, fatigue, joy, and sorrow, etc. The idea is excellent, but it is
to be regretted that the experiments were not repeated on persons
who did not have preconceived ideas ; and that these experiments,
which are difficult to get, were not made the real basis of his book.
Such experiments, of course, would not give the key to character ; to
study that question, hypnotism might be called in as a method.
We might give to proper hypnotic subjects suggestions of simple
emotions ; see that they realize them ; and then set them to writing
under the influence of these emotions. Then we might compare
different specimens of such writing. As I said ten years ago, that
would be the best method of experimental graphology.

SORBONNE, PARIS. A. B.

ETHICAL

The Study of Ethics. A Syllabus. J. DEWEY. Ann Arbor, Mich. :
Register Publishing Co. The Inland Press, 1894. Pp. 151.

This study has as its aim " to justify the belief that amid the pre-
valence of pathological and moralistic ethics there is room for a
theory which conceives of conduct as the normal and free living of

PS YCHOLOGICA L LITER A TURE. 43 I

life as it is." It attempts a psychological analysis of 'active
experience ' and a revelation through this analysis of the ' chief
ethical types '. Those who have found the author's former work
* Outlines of Ethics ' stimulating, suggestive and original will find
here the same characteristics, combined with a genuine philosophic
candor and downright manliness of expression. Inform and method
it is a model of what a syllabus should be. It is a pity, however, that
anything so good should be marred by such an absurdly large num-
ber of typographical errors.

The contents are divided into nine chapters treating successively
of (i) the nature of ethical theory, (2) the factors of moral conduct
(3) a general analysis, (4) the moral consciousness, (5) moral appro-
bation, (6) reflective approbation, conscience, (7) nature of obliga-
tion, (8) freedom and responsibility, (9) virtue and the virtues. In
these chapters we are introduced again to some doctrines already
familiar to readers of Professor Dewey's articles in the philosophical
reviews, e. g., to the doctrine of the mediation of impulse (will) —
"the expression of every impulse stimulates other experiences and
these react into the original impulse and modify it. The reaction
of the induced experiences into the inducing impulse is the psycho-
logical basis of moral conduct This back reference of an

experience to the impulse which induces it we may term the media-
tion of impulse"; to the doctrine of the agent's moral situation as
" nothing but the complete co-ordination of all his powers (abilities)
and relations. . . . The good man in a word is his whole self in each
of his acts, the bad man is a partial (and hence a different) self in
his conduct."

The critical examination of the hedonistic and Kantian ethics
is searching and convincing, both theories being condemned for
their abstractness. Green's theory of the moral ideal is also made
the subject of an illuminating criticism.

Every student of ethics should read this book. To the review-
er's mind it is one of the most suggestive published in recent years.

MIAMI UNIVERSITY. R. B. JOHNSON.

NEW BOOKS.

Saggi di Psicologia del Bambino. P. LOMBROSO. Turin and Rome,
L. Roux, 1895. Pp. XII + 284.

Introduction to Social Philosophy. J. S. MACKENSIE. 2nd ed. Lon-
don and New York, Macmillans, 1895. Pp. XIV + 454.

The Pathology of Mind. H. MAUDSLEY. London and New York,
Macmillans, 1895. Pp. XI + 571.

432 NOTES.

Philosophic und Erkenntnistheorie. Ite Abth. L. BUSSE. Leipzig,

Hirzel, 1895. Pp. VI + 289.
Elements de psychologie humaine. J. VAN BIERVLIET. Paris, Alcan,

1895. Fr. 8.
Ucber das Grundprincip der Association. ALLIN. Berlin, Mayer and

MUller, 1895.
Gewohnung und Gewohnheit. (Dissertation, Jena.) A. P. KURTIDIS.

Athens, Konstantinidis, 1895. Pp. 64.
Die Aufgaben und Methoden der Psychologie in der Gegenwart. J.

MERKEL. Zittau, Bohme, 1895. 4to, pp. 36.
Vorlesungen iiber soziale Ethik. G. v. GIZYCKI. Berlin, Dumler,

1895. Pp. 88.
Zur Psychologie des Schreibens. W. PREYER. Hamburg u. Leipzig,

Voss, 1895. Pp. 230.
Die Grundprobleme der Philosophie. I. SOCOLIU. Bern, Beck-Keller,

1895. Pp. XVI + VI + 260.
Princeton Contributions to Psychology. Vol. I, No. i. Reprinted from

PSYCH. REV. Edited by J. MARK BALDWIN. Princeton Uni-
versity Press, 1895. Pp. 44.
Die Zweckmdssigkeit der psychische Vorgdnge als Wirkung der Vorstel-

lungshemmung. O. LINDENBERG. Berlin, Duncker, 1894. Pp. 64.
The Essentials of Logic. B. BOSANQUET. New York, Macmillan,

1895. Pp. X + 168. $i.
Transactions of the American Medico- Psycholog. Association. Vol. I.

1894 (Semi-Centenn. Proceedings). H. M. HURD, Sec. The

Assoc., Utica, N. Y., 1895. Pp. X + 36i.

NOTES.

Prof. W. L. Bryan is now Vice-President of the University of
Indiana and Professor of Philosophy ; Dr. John A. Bergstrom is
Assistant Professor of Psychology and Pedagogy, and Mr. E. H.
Lindley, Instructor in Philosophy, in the same institution.

The death is announced of Prof. Luigi Ferri, of the University
of Rome, and of Prof. G. Glogau, of the University of Kiel. An
Italian committee solicits subscriptions for a monument to Professor
Ferri. American subscribers may send names and amounts to this
REVIEW, or to the Editor Rivista Italiana di Filosofia, via del Govorno
Vecchio, 121, Rome, Italy.

Mr. H. M. Stanley has in the press of Swan Sonnenschein &
Co., a work titled Studies in Evolutionary Psychology.

Dr. Georg von Gizycki, Associate Professor of philosophy in the
University of Berlin, died on March 4 at the age of 46.

VOL. II. No. 5. SEPTEMBER, 1895.

THE PSYCHOLOGICAL REVIEW.

SOME OBSERVATIONS ON THE ANOMALIES OF
SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS.1

(I.)

BY PROFESSOR JOSIAH ROYCE,

Harvard University.

In the present paper I shall venture to lay some stress
upon certain familiar factors whose psychological influence
upon the growth and the anomalies of self-consciousness,
both in normal and in abnormal human beings, seems to me
to have been, from the purely theoretical point of view,
rather unduly neglected. In particular, I shall try to indi-
cate how these theoretically neglected factors may help to
explain certain well known types of variation, and of abnor-
mality, to which the functions of self-consciousness, as they
empirically appear, are subject. Meanwhile I shall of course
avoid, in this paper, any positive reference to the distinct-
ively metaphysical problems which the word self-conscious-
ess easily suggests. The philosophical aspects of the prob-
em of self-consciousness belong altogether elsewhere. Start-
ng this evening with the mere empirical fact that any normal
an has, as part of his mental equipment, conscious states
nd functions that involve, in one way or another, his expe-
ience, his knowledge, his estimate, or, in general terms, his
iew, of himself, and remembering that, in many defective
nd disordered people, these, the functions of individual self-

1 A paper read before the Medico-Psychological Association of Boston, March 21,

433

434 JO SI AH RO YCE.

consciousness, undergo changes of a manifold and interesting
sort, I shall try to illustrate aspects of the purely psycholog-
ical theory of our topic. I speak to practical men, who are also
men of science. I need make then no apology for introduc-
ing here a problem which, whatever its difficulty, is full
both of scientifically attractive, and of practically important
elements. For surely the alterations and defects of the
functions of self-consciousness are amongst the most frequent
phenomena in the region of mental pathology.

I.

In its inner aspects and relations, what we mean by self-
consciousness, in any one man, is an enormously complex
function or rather a little world of functions. But this world
of functions is centred about certain well known habits and
experiences which at once serve, not to explain it, but in a
measure to begin for us the definition of our problem. There
are, namely, in any mature person, certain established motor
habits, which, according as they appear to be intact or not,
enable us at once to test, from without, the relative normal-
ity of whatever belongs to that which one may call the mere
routine of an individual's self-consciousness. There are also
certain inner experiences, in terms of which the normal in-
dividual himself, from moment to moment, can feel assured
of the apparent naturalness of his own notion or estimate of
himself. A mature man whose self-consciousness is normal,
if his means of expressing himself are intact, must be able to
explain « who he is,' i. e., he must be able to tell his name,
his business, his general relations in life, and whatever else
would be essential to the practical purpose of identifying
him. Furthermore, his account of himself must be able to
show an estimate by no means adequate or infallible, but at
least not too wildly absurd, of his actual degree of social
dignity, of his personal importance and of his physical capa-
city. He will to be sure quite normally estimate his value,
his prowess, or even his social rank, not, in general, precisely
as his fellows do. But this sort of estimate has its normal,
if rather wide, limits of error. If these limits are passed,
the man's account of himself proves the presence of a de-

OB SEX VA TIONS ON ANOMALIES OF SELF-CONSCIO USNESS. 43 5

rangement of self-consciousness. Finally, as to this account
which the normal man can give of himself, he must show a
certain degree of correctness as to what he can tell us of his
body and of its present state. Here, of course, the limits of
error are very wide, but are still pretty definite. A man is
normally a very poor judge of his internal bodily states.
But if he says he is made of glass, or that he is aware that
he is a mile high, or that he is conscious of having no body
at all, we recognize a disorder involving alterations of self-
consciousness.

Within his own mind, meanwhile, and from his own point
of view, a man normally self-conscious is more or less aware
of a great deal about himself of which it is notoriously hard
for him to give any exact account whatever. Yet this inter-
nally normal self-consciousness has, at any time, a definitive,
if not easily definable content, which, in its relatively inex-
pressible complexity of constitution, far transcends what
one expresses when he tells you his name, his place in life,
his degree, or his notion of his bodily condition. This
normal inner self-consciousness involves, in the first place,
what we are now accustomed to call, from a psychological
point of view, masses of somewhat vaguely localized bodily
sensations, which, just in so far as they affect our general
consciousness, are not sharply differentiated from one
another. The origin of these sensations lies in the skin, in
the muscles, and, in part, in the viscera. Moreover, the
visual perception of the body, the auditory experiences of
the sound of one's own voice, and yet other sensory con-
tents, including the more general sensations of bodily move-
ment, obviously determine, now more, and now less, the
content or the coloring of normal self-consciousness. If
any of these masses of sensory contents are suddenly altered,
our immediate self-consciousness may be much changed
thereby. Dizziness, sensations of oppression in the head, a
general sense of bodily ill-being, a flushed face, a ringing in
the ears, — any of these may involve what we primarily take
to be a general alteration of our feeling of self, and only
secondarily distinguish from the self as a separate and local-
ized group of experiences. In general, the more sharply

436 JO SI AH RO YCE.

we localize our sensations, and the more we refer them to
external objects, the less do these sensory experiences blend
into our total immediate feeling of ourselves. The localized
or objectified sensory state appears as something foreign, as
coming to us, as besetting us, or as otherwise affecting us,
but not as being a part of the self; and only a relatively
philosophical reflection regards even our perceptions as part
of ourselves. Our more naive self-consciousness tends to
regard the sensory or immediate self as a vague whole,
from which one separates one's definite experiences of this
place on the skin, of this color or tone, or of this outer
object.

Yet our inner notion of the self of self-consciousness
is by no means confined to this cruder apperception of mas-
sive sensory contents. In addition, our normal mature
awareness of who and what we are means what one may call
a collection of feelings of inner control, of self-possession,
or, as many would say, of spontaneity. If such feelings
begin to be altered or lost, one complains of confusion, of a
sense of self-estrangement, of helplessness, of deadness, of
mental automatism, or of a divided personality. As a fact,
since the associative processes always depend upon the con-
ditions of which we are not conscious, our sense that we can
and do rule our whole current train of conscious states is, as
it is ordinarily felt, a fallacious sense. But if we cannot
really predetermine, in consciousness, what idea shall next
come to consciousness, but are dependent, even in the clear-
est thinking, upon the happy support of our associative
mechanism, it is still normal to feel as if, on the whole, our
inner process were, in certain respects, relatively spontane-
ous, i. e., as if it were controlled by our ruling interests and
by our volition. This sense of inner self-possession is, to be
sure, an extremely delicate and unstable affair, and is con-
stantly interfered with, in the most normal life, not only by
a series of uncontrollable sensory novelties, due to the ex-
ternal world, but by baffling variations, either in the play of
our impulses and ideal associations, or in the tone of our
emotions, or in both. Yet, when we are alert, these little
interferences continually arise only to be subordinated. We

OBSERVATIONS ON ANOMALIES OF SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 437

have perhaps momentary difficulties in recalling names or
other needed ideas, of an imperfectly learned group, or we
feel equally momentary indecisions as to what it is just now
best to do, or we find our attention wandering, or our emo-
tional tone disagreeably insistent, or our impulses numerous
and wayward. But in all such cases we can still, in the
normal case, 'keep hold of ourselves,' so that we accept as
our own whatever content triumphs in the play of associative
processes, and find our essential expectations met, from mo-
ment to moment, by the inner experiences which form the
centre of the mental field of vision. If this rule no longer
holds of our inner life, then our self-consciousness begins to
vary, and we suffer from confusion or from other forms of
the sense of lost inner control.

Thus the self of ordinary self-consciousness appears at
once as a relatively stable group of unlocalized sensory con-
tents or contents of feeling, and as the apparent controller
of the train of associated ideas, impulses, and acts of atten-
tion or of choice. Of course these two aspects of the self
are closely related. It is the associative potency of the
ruling feelings and interests that most secures the fact and
the sense of inner self-control. But meanwhile the self also
seems, or may seem, to its possessor, much larger than any
group of facts or of functions now present. One notoriously
regards the present self as only the representative of a self
which has been present, in the remembered past of our lives,
and which will be present in the expected future to which
we look forward. Nor does self-consciousness usually cease
with this view. The characters, attributes, functions, or
other organic constituents of the self commonly extend, from
our own point of view, decidedly beyond anything that can
be directly presented in any series of our isolated inner ex-
periences, however extended. When one is vain, one's self-
consciousness involves the notion that one's self really ex-
ists, in some way or other, for the thoughts and estimates of
lothers, and is at least worthy, if not the possessor, of their
praise or of their envy. When one feels guilty, one does
lot and cannot abstract from the conceived presence of one's
>elf in and for the experience of a real or ideal judge of one's

438 JO SI AH RO YCE.

guilt. In all such cases the self of self-consciousness thus
appears as something that it would not and could not be were
there not others in the world to behold, or to estimate it, to
be led or otherwise influenced by it, or to appeal to it. It is
now from such points of view that the self of self-conscious-
ness comes, in the end, to get form as a being who takes
himself to have a social position, an office, a profession, — in
brief, a vast group of functions without which the self would
appear itself to be, relatively speaking, a mere cipher, while
these functions are at once regarded as organically joined to
the self, and centered in it, and, nevertheless, are unintelligi-
ble unless one goes beyond one's private consciousness, and
takes account of the ideas and estimates of other people.

Every normal man thus knows what it means to be a per-
son with a social position, or a dignity, or a place in the
world, or a character, a person vain of himself, or ashamed
of himself, or socially confident or timid about himself, or
otherwise disposed to view himself either as others seem to
view him, or as he fancies that they ought to view him, or
as he has faith that God views him. And such a view of
one's self cannot be satisfied with any group of inner facts,
however extensive, as containing within it the whole of one's
ego. This view conceives the office, calling, dignity, worth,
position, as at once a possession, or a real aspect, of the self,
and as a possession or an aspect that would vanish from the
world were not the self conceived as existing for others be-
sides itself, in other words, were not the self conceived as
having an exterior as well as an interior form of existence.

The self of normal self-consciousness, then, is felt at any
moment as this relatively stable group of inner states ; it is
also felt or conceived as the supposed spontaneous controller
of the general or of the principal current of successive con-
scious states ; it is remembered or expected as the past or
future self, which is taken to be somehow more or less pre-
cisely the same as the present self; and finally, it is viewed
as having a curious collection of exterior functions that in-
volve its actual value, potency, prowess, reputation, or office,
in its external social relations to other actual or ideal selves,
e. g., to its neighbors, to humanity at large, or, in case one's
faith extends so far, to God.

OBSERVA TIONS ON ANOMALIES OF SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 439

And, now, just as the immediate self of the mass of inner
sensations and feelings can vary, or just as the self of the
sense of self-control can be more or less pathologically
altered ; so too the identical or persistent self of memory
can be confused, divided, or lost, in morbid conditions; and
so too finally, the self of the social type of self-consciousness
is subject to very familiar forms of diseased variation. The
social self above all can come to be the object of a morbidly
depressed or exalted inner estimate. One's social prowess,
position, office and other relations, both to God and to man,
can be conceived in the most extravagantly false fashions.
And furthermore, as I wish at once to point out, the most
noteworthy alterations of self-consciousness, in insanities in-
volving delusions of suspicion, of persecution and of grand-
eur, appear upon their very surface as pathological variations
of the social aspect of self-consciousness. Note at once the
possible significance of this fact. However you explain de-
lusions of guilt, of suspicion, of persecution and of grandeur,
however much you refer their source to altered sensory or
emotional states, they stand before you, when once they are
well developed, as variations of the patient's habits of esti-
mating his relations to other selves. They involve, then,
maladies of the social consciousness. The theoretical signi-
ficance of this fact surely seems worthy of a closer consider-
ation than it customarily receives.

Since the psychologist, as such, can afford to be quite in-
different to the question whether any real being, to be called
an Ego, exists, or not, and since he is therefore still less in-
terested in the philosophical problem as to the forms of being
which a real Ego can possess, in case it exists, — I am here very
little concerned to answer one question which these latest
considerations may have already suggested to some of you.
I mean the question whether an Ego really can possess that
equivocal sort of exterior existence, outside of its own train
of conscious experience, which, as we have seen, the social
sort of self-consciousness seems to attribute to the self.
When I feel humble or exalted, abased or proud, guilty or
just, or when I say, < I am in this social office or position,'
I seem to myself as one whose actual nature and functions

440 JO SI AH ROYCE.

include more facts than can ever be crowded into my own
consciousness. For unless I believe in my real relations to
my neighbors or to God, and conceive those relations as
somehow a part of myself, I should have no material out of
which to weave my notion of my rank, or my duties, and of
my external importance. But whether this idea of my-
self is defensible or not, from a philosophical point of view,
is far from us here. It is enough for us that a man common-
ly has just such a view as to his own nature, and that
pathological variations of such a view are familiar and
important phenomena.

II.

In the foregoing sketch, I have been simply reporting
familiar psychological phenomena. That our human self-
consciousness involves all these various elements, is, one
may say, agreed. The problem is, how have all these ele-
ments come thus to hang together? And so we next have
to attack the central problem just mentioned, i. e., we have
to ask, in a purely psychological sense : How does this elab-
orate mental product called self-consciousness get formed
out of these numerous elements and why, when once formed,
is it so variable, and, finally, why, when it varies, does it
vary in the directions so frequently reported?

It is here that our theoretical knowledge is at present
so poor. The collection of observed facts is, to be sure,
at present, considerable. Readers of Ribot's book on the
* Diseases of Personality,' know of the general types of
varying self-consciousness to which attention has been
most attracted. Loss of the sense of personality ; or
again, the delusion that one is dead, or is lost, or is
an automaton; or the feeling or idea that there is a for-
eign or other self within one ; or the attribution of one's
own thoughts, or acts, to another and wholly external
person or persons; or the alternation or the apparently
actual multiplication of one's own personality ; or the refusal
to regard one's present self as identical with one's past self:
such are some of the variations to which self-consciousness
is subject, in addition to the before-mentioned alterations of

OBSER VA TIONS ON A NOMA LIES OF SELF- CON SCI 0 USNESS. 44 1

the obviously social type of self-consciousness. But when
we ask why any of these alterations takes place, we have so
far only one unquestionable, but theoretically inadequate
answer, viz. : In all such cases there are alterations of the
common sensibility, or of the memory, or of both. Now
one sees, without doubt, that self-consciousness involves the
common sensibility, in the sense before indicated. One sees
then that if this core of normally stable, vaguely localized
sensory conditions and feelings gets altered, one's notion of
one's self may also naturally change. And, not to leave the
limits of ordinary experience, one knows and understands
what it means to say, when these central masses of feeling
do more or less change : « I feel queer ; I feel altered ; I am
no longer quite myself; I am not my old self.' By a little
stretch of imagination one can also understand such a delu-
sion as * I am made of glass,' quite as well as one can under-
stand any other delusion. For here our dreams help us to
see our way, and we have only to suppose that a certain
association of ideas, whereby a partial anaesthesia gets inter-
preted, becomes fixed, and exclusive, in order to see how the
delusions as to bodily condition or constitution, present in a
measure in all hypochondriacs, can assume such extreme
forms. Just so too the mere assertion « I am lost,' or ' I am
dead,' is, on the face of it, just an insistent verbal statement,
or at best an inner judgment whose exclusive presence in
consciousness is due merely to morbid habit, and whose
meaning or logical consequences we often need not suppose
the patient to develop in any delusionally definite form at
all. These phenomena involve, where they are alone, or are
segregated from the rest of the patient's life, rather patho-
logical simplifications of the contents of consciousness, mor-
bid associations of sensations with simple groups of words or
of ideas, than any other processes. So far, then, we see some
light.

But now the case is otherwise when one says : ' There
are two of me,' and proceeds actively to develop the conse-
quences of this inner variety of self. Here, to be sure, the
phenomena of dreams, and of the commoner forms of tran-
sient delirium, as in fevers, bring this sort of doubleness

442 JO SI AH RO YCE.

within the remembered experience of very many persons ;
and familiar moral and poetical statements about the two
selves or more that dwell in one's breast, assimilate such
experiences to those of normal people. But one's conscious-
ness, in such cases, throws little direct light upon how the
phenomena arise. Sometimes, to be sure, in delirium their
basis is plainly hallucinatory, as when a fever patient sees
himself, in bodily presence, standing at a distance, or lying
in the bed. But even then one wishes for more light as to
the question whether and how such a tendency to patholog-
ical duplication has any natural foundation in the under-
stood habits of normal life. This problem seems even the
more insistent when one observes that the sense of the in-
wardly doubled personality often arises without any obvious
basis in hallucinations of the special senses. But in such
cases, our present theories often fall back again upon the
variations of the common sensibility. Yet here one fails to
see how any easily conceivable alteration in the contents of
the central core of the sensory self is by itself sufficient to
explain a tendency to apperceive that self as double. One
does not doubt the existence, in such cases, of an altered
common sensibility ; what one fails to follow is the link be-
tween such alteration, and the new habits, of judgment, or
of apperception, which tend to get formed upon this basis.

But I do not wish to burden you with a mere enumera-
tion of problems, and I will not here further dwell upon the
inadequacies of the current theories ol the factors of self-
consciousness, whether these theories lay stress upon the
common sensibility, or upon the memory, as the principal
factor in their explanations of the variations of the ego. It
is only necessary to show that, while both the common sen-
sibility and the memory are certainly largely concerned in
the constitution of the self, the problem of self-consciousness
is not thus to be fully solved. One must look to other fac-
tors as well. One has in fact only to remember that some
large alterations of the common sensibility seem to involve
very little change of self-consciousness at all, in order to see
how complex the problem is.

OBSERVATIONS ON ANOMALIES OF SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 443

And now, as to the real problem itself, it is surely one
relating to the origin, to the nature and to the variations, of
a certain important collection of mental habits. What are
these habits? How do they arise? I insist, a mere catalogue
of the contents of self-consciousness helps us little, unless we
can interpret the facts in terms of the known laws of habit.
For a man is self-conscious in so far as he has formed habits
of regarding, remembering, estimating, and guiding himself.
And now whenever these habits are in play, they all of them,
as I must next insist, have a common and noteworthy char-
acter. If a man regards himself, as this individual Ego, he
always sets over against his Ego something else, viz. : some
particular object represented by a portion of his conscious
states, and known to him as his then present and interesting
non-Ego. This psychological non-Ego, represented in one's
conscious states, is of course very seldom the universe, or
anything in the least abstract. And, for the rest, it is a very
varying non-Ego. And now, it is very significant that our
mental habits are such that the Ego of which one is conscious
varies with the particular non-Ego that one then and there
consciously seems to encounter. If I am in a fight, my con-
sciously presented non-Ego is my idea of my opponent. Con-
sequently I am then conscious of myself as of somebody
fighting him. If I am in love, my non-Ego is thought of as
my beloved, and my Self, however much the chord of it pre-
tends, trembling, to pass in music out of sight, is the Self of
my passion. If I strut about in fancied dignity, my non-Ego
is the world of people who, as I fondly hope, are admiring
me. Accordingly I then exist, for myself, as the beheld of
all beholders, the model. If I sink in despair and self-abase-
ment, my non-Ego is the world of the conceived real or ideal
people whose imagined contempt interests, but overwhelms
me, and I exist for myself as the despised Ego, worthy of
their ill will. When I speak, my non-Ego is the person or
persons addressed, and my Ego is the speaker. If I sud-
denly note that, though I talk, nobody marks me, both the
non-Ego and my Ego dramatically change together in my
consciousness. These two contents of consciousness, then,
are psychologically linked. Alone, I am so far not myself.

444 JO SI AH RO YCE.

My consciousness of my Ego is a consciousness colored by
my conceived relations to my endlessly changing conscious-
ness of a non-Ego. And notice, I speak here as little of any
metaphysically real non-Ego as I speak of any metaphysi-
cally real Ego. The whole question is here one of mental
states and of the actual habits of their grouping not of rela-
tive, nor yet of real relations outside of consciousness. I
point out merely the fact that, according as one chances to
conceive thus or thus the non-Ego of his strongest current
interest, even so, on the other hand, he conceives his Ego
thus or thus, viz., as something related to this non-Ego, op-
posed to it, concerned in it, possessor of it, crushed by it,
desirous of winning it, or however the play of habit and of
interest makes the thing seem. Here, I think, lies the real
key to all the variations of Self-consciousness, whether their
conditions involve the common sensibility or not.

The psychological problem of self-consciousness reduces
itself, then, to the following form. One must ask: How has
one come to form all these habits of drawing a boundary, in
one's consciousness, between mental states that represent a
non-Ego, and mental states that clump themselves together
into the central object called the Ego? One must also ask;
Whence comes all this material for variation, whereby the
content called the Ego shifts endlessly as the content called
the non-Ego alters? And one must further inquire: How
do the constitution and the variations of the Ego get that
intimate relation to the sensations of the common sensibility
upon which we have laid stress from the start?

Now to all these questions, as I hold, the recent study of
childhood has tended to suggest at least a plausible answer.
The substantial basis for the answer that I shall suggest has
been reached, pretty independently, by my friend Professor
Baldwin, of Princeton, and by myself. Professor Baldwin has
given to some aspects of the matter, so far as concerns child
life, a much fuller working out than I have done, both in his
earlier papers and in his recently published book called
Mental Development in the Child and the Race. On the other
hand, in a recent discussion in the Philosophical Review (of
Cornell) I have stated my own notions as to certain philo-

OBSERVA TIONS ON ANOMALIES OF SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 445

:sophically important aspects of the growth of self-conscious-
jiess. But the application of these theoretical considerations
to the study of the pathological variations of self-conscious-
ness in the present paper is, I think, new.

The early intellectual life of the child is lost to us in ob-
scurity, despite numerous recent observations. But we are
clear that the infant, in the first months of life, has nothing
that we should call self-consciousness. But the first clear
^evidence that we get of the presence of a form of self-con-
sciousness intelligible to us comes when the infant begins to
be observantly imitative of the acts, and later of the words,
of the people about it. In other words, the first Ego of the
child's intelligible consciousness appears to be, in its own
mind, set over against a non-Ego that, to the child, is made
up of the perceived fascinating, and to its feeling more or less
significant, deeds of the persons in its environment. From
this time on, up to seven or eight years of age, any normal
child remains persistently, although perhaps very selectively,
imitative, of deeds, of habits, of games, of customs, and
often of highly ideal and perhaps quite imaginary models,
such as are suggested to it by fairy-stories and other such
material. As one follows the growth of these imitative ten-
dencies, from their initial and quite literal stages, through
those stages of elaborate impersonation and of playful,
originally colored, often enormously insistent games, in
which the child follows all sorts of real and fantastic models,
one is struck by the fact that any normal child leads, rela-
tively speaking, two lives, one naive, intensely egoistic from
our point of view, but relatively free from any marked self-
consciousness in the child's own mind, while his other life is
the life in which he develops his conscious ideas and views
of himself as a person. The relatively na'ive life is the life
of his childish appetites and passions; the relatively self-
conscious life is the life of his imitations and dramatic imper-
sonations, of his poses and devices, of his games, and of his
proudly fantastic skill, and of the countless social habits and
attitudes that spring up from this source. The two lives
mingle and cross in all sorts of ways. But the child who
merely eats, cries, and enjoys his physical well-being, is not

446 JO SI AH RO YCE.

just then self-conscious as is the child who plays horse, or
hero, or doctor, or who carefully tries to follow a model as he
draws, or to invent a trick as good as one that he has seen.
The latter child, however, is essentially imitative, first of
persons, then of ideas, then of the facts of the physical world
as such. But the former child is simply the creature of
natural impulses and passions, and would never come to self-
consciousness, in our sense, if his life were not gradually
moulded by the elaborate habits which the imitative child
constantly introduces.

Now the psychological importance of imitation lies largely
in the fact, that in so far as a child imitates, he gets ideas
about the inner meaning or intent of the deeds that he imi-
tates, and so gets acquainted with what he early finds to be
the minds of other people. The child that repeats your
words, slowly learns what they mean. The child that uses
scissors, pencil, or other tools after you, learns, as he imi-
tates, what cutting means, and what drawing, or other such
doings. And as he thus learns, he gets presented to his own
consciousness contents, which he regards as standing for those
of your mind. The experienced interesting outcome of an
imitated deed, is for the child the obvious meaning of that
deed, for you, as you did it. But he does not get these con-
tents,— these glimpses of your meaning, — he does not get
them, at first, very easily. He gets them by persistently
watching you, listening to you, playing with you, trying to
be like you, all activities that for him involve muscular sen-
sations, emotional concerns, and still other variations of his
common sensibility. These efforts of his to grasp your mean-
ing are marked and often delightful incidents of his con-
sciousness. He returns over and over to his favorite games
with you. He encounters every time your meaning, and he
sets over against it those experiences of his own doings,
whereby he comes to participate in your meaning. Here
now the child always has present to him two sets of contents,
both fascinating, each setting the other off sharply by con-
trast, while the contrast itself establishes the boundary be-
tween them. The first set of contents are his perceptions ol
your deeds, and his representation of your discovered mean-

OBSER VA TIONS ON ANOMALIES OF SELF-CON SCIO USNESS. 447

ing in these deeds. The second set of contents are his own
imitative acts themselves, as perceived by himself, these acts,
and his delights in them. The first set of contents depend
upon you. The child feels them to be uncontrollable. As
perceptions, and as representations, these contents do not
get closely linked to the child's common sensibility. They
stand off as external although welcome intruders. On the
other hand, the other set of contents, the child's own newly
discovered powers, due to his imitation, are closely centred
about his common sensibility, are accompanied with all the
feelings which make up the sense of control, and get remem-
bered, thenceforth, accordingly. The first set of contents
form the psychological non-Ego of this particular phase of
consciousness. The second set of contents form the psycho-
logical Ego corresponding thereto. One sees why the Ego-
part of this sort of consciousness includes the common
sensibility, and the sense of voluntary control, and why the
non-Ego here involves contents that are set off by the con-
trast as uncontrollable, and as not closely linked to the com-
mon sensibility. And it is in this contrast that the source of
true self-consciousness lies. We do not observe a given
group of mental contents as such unless they are marked off
by contrast from other contents. One could have all the
common sensibility you please, and all the feelings of volun-
tary control, without ever coming to take note of this totality
of united or centralized mental contents as such, and as
clearly different from the rest of one's field of consciousness.
Even now we all of us tend to lose clear self-consciousness
so soon as we get absorbed in any activity, such as rowing,
hill-climbing, singing, whistling, looking about us at natural
scenery, — any activity I say, whose object does not, by the
sharp contrast between its own external meaning and our
efforts, call our attention to our specific relation to some non-
Ego. Yet in lonely rowing and hill-climbing the common
sensibility is as richly present as it is in many of our most
watchfully self-conscious states. On the other hand, when
I work hard to make my meaning clear to another man, or to
make out what he means, I am self-conscious, just in so far
as 1 contrast my idea of his ways and thoughts, with my own

448 JO SI AH RO YCE.

effort to conform to his ways and thoughts. And just such
an effort, just such a contrast, seems to mediate the earliest
self-consciousness of the imitative child, and to secure the
tendency of the self to be built up about the common sen-
sibility, while the not self gets sundered therefrom. So then
one sees the rule : — If one is keenly self-conscious, the com-
mon sensibility must be central. But, on the other hand, one
may have a rich common sensibility without any keen self-
consciousness. It is the contrast of Ego and non-Ego that is
essential to self-consciouness.

But of course the child's relations to the varying non-Ego
of consciousness do not remain merely imitative. When once
he has other minds in his world, the function whose essence is
the contrast between his conceptions of these minds and his
view of his own response to them, can take as many forms as
his natural instincts determine. His naive life of appetites gets
gradually infected by his conscious relations to other people.
He wants good things, and perhaps must feign affection or
show politeness, or invent some other social device, to get
what he wants. Here again is an activity depending upon
and bringing to light, the contrast between his own inten-
tion, and the conceived or perceived personal traits and
whims to which he conforms his little skill. He learns to
converse, and gets a new form of the contrast between the
sayings of others (which he interprets by listening), and his
own ideas and meanings. He reaches the questioning age,
and now he systematically peers into the minds of others as
into an endlessly wealthy non-Ego, in whose presence he is
by contrast self-conscious as an inquirer. Here, every time
one has the essential element of contrast upon which all self-
consciousness depends. Argument and quarreling later in-
volve similar contrasts. As to the external physical world, —
what the child shall most care for in that, is largely deter-
mined for him by his social relations. Whatever habit he
has acquired by social imitation, he can, therefore, in the
end, apply to things as well as to persons. As a fact he is
notoriously often animistic, directly transferring social habits
to physical relations, and regarding things as alive. And
here again he becomes self-conscious, by contrasting his own

OBSERVA TIONS ON ANOMALIES OF SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 449

activities with the conceived natures and meanings of exter-
nal things. I do not at all suppose that the child regards all
natural things in an animistic way ; but I am of opinion, for
reasons which I have set forth elsewhere, that our whole
tendency to distinguish as sharply, as we all now do, between
the self and the external physical world, is a secondary ten-
dency, due in the child's case, to social influences. It is
language, it is the accounts that people give to us of things,
it is the socially acquired questioning habit, — it is such things
that extend the contrast between Ego and non-Ego, at first
mainly a social contrast, to the relations between one's own
mind and one's physical environment. Even now, as I just
pointed out, if we forget that nature is full of thinkable mys-
teries, of meanings, of laws, of other ideal contents whose
significance we do not comprehend, — if we forget this, and
lapse into mere busy and absorbing physical experience, as
when climbing hills alone, or rowing, or cheerily whistling
as we walk, we forget to be self-conscious, just because we
lose sight of the sharper contrasts of Ego and non-Ego.

III.

But, to return to the explicitly social relations, there is
still another factor to note in our early relations to our con-
ceived social non-Ego. And this is the fact that, by our
instinctive mental constitution as moulded by our social
habits, we are early subject to a vast number of more or less
secondary emotions, each one of which involves large alter-
ations of the common sensibility, while all of these particular
emotions arise under circumstances which make explicit the
contrast between one's self, and one's idea of one's fellow's
mind. Such emotions we get as children when people praise
us, blame us, caress us, call us pet names, stare at us, call
us by name, ask us questions, and otherwise appeal to us in
noteworthy ways. Such emotions too we get again, in
novel forms, in youth, when the subtle coloring of the emo-
tions of sex begins to pervade our whole social life. Such
emotions are shame, love, anger, pride, delight in our own
bodily seeming as displayed before others, thrills of social
expectation, fears of appearing ill in the eyes of others.

450 JO SI AH RO YCE.

Such emotions involve blushing, weeping, laughter, inner
glow, visceral sensations of the most various kinds, and
feelings of the instinctive muscular tensions related to our
countless expressive social deeds. These experiences are,
however, aroused by situations all of which essentially in-
volve the aforesaid contrast between our own ideas, wishes,
or meanings, and the conceived states of other minds. Hence
these emotional states associate themselves, as variations of
the common-sensibility, first, with social situations, i. e., with
cases where Ego and non-Ego are sharply contrasted ; and
then especially with the Ego-member of the relation of con-
trast. And so, altogether by the force of habit, these emo-
tions, which if primarily aroused would be mere content,
belonging neither to Ego nor to non-Ego, come to be the
specific emotions of self-consciousness, so that now when-
ever we have just these emotions, from any cause whatever,
we are at once keenly self-conscious, — and that merely be-
cause the emotions in question faintly or keenly suggest
particular social situations. Emotions that have had no
such constant relation to social situations, involve no such
marked states of self-consciousness. Fear of physical dan-
gers tends to diminish our self-consciousness ; shame inten-
sifies it. Yet keen physical fear, as the more primitive
emotion, involves vaster commotions of the common sensi-
bility than does shame. Were then the marked presence or
variation of the common sensibility in consciousness the sole
and sufficient cause of the presence or of the variation of
one's immediate or sensory Ego, physical terror would make
one more self-conscious than does shame. But panic fear,
in its intensest conscious forms, involves rather a destruction
than a positive alteration of self-consciousness; while the
most abject shame grows the more intensely self-conscious
as it gets the more marked. Why? Because shame, habit-
ually associated only with social situations, suggests them
even where it is pathological and is not due to them ; and so
it brings to consciousness the contrast of Ego and non-Ego.
Thus, then, it is that I propose to explain what the current
theories of self-consciousness usually seem unable to deal
with, viz., the before-mentioned fact that certain pathological

OBSERVA TIONS ON ANOMALIES OF SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 45 I

variations of the common sensibility profoundly alter the
tone or constitution of a patient's self-consciousness, while
others, equally intimate and vast, either leave self-conscious-
ness relatively intact, or simply put it wholly out of sight
without first tampering with its integrity. When a man has
the colic he does not say, 'My Ego is deranged.' His
account of the case is far less metaphysical. But when, as
in the depression after the grip, he has certain very much
dimmer and more subtle alterations of the common sensibil-
ity, he may complain of precisely such a sense of alienation
from himself. Why? Well, as I should say, the colic sug-
gests no social situation ; the vague depression after the grip
may dimly suggest, by habit, situations of social failure, or
confusion, or powerlessness, such as, from sensitive child-
hood until now, have played their part in one's life. The
suggestion may be very faint, and utterly abstract. No par-
ticular failure, no special case of social helplessness, comes
to mind. But our nascent associations can be present in all
degrees of faintness; and here I maintain are associations
dimly involving social contrasts between Ego and non-Ego.
Here, then, are conditions for the function of self-conscious-
ness.

Since the emotional alteration of the common sensibility
has thus the most various habitual relations, now with our
unsocial physical states as such, now with social activities,
one sees how it is possible for a nervous sufferer to say, on
one day, that he personally feels his very being wrecked, and
his self-hood lost or degraded, while on another day he may
simply declare that he suffers keenly, but regards the affair
as a mere physical infliction, external to his central self-
hood. In the physical sufferings of sensitive women this
shifting of the enemy's ground from the region of the physi-
cal or psychical pain felt as a mere brute fact, hateful but
still bearable, to the region where the sufferer complains of
an intolerable loss of self-possession, is notoriously a common
and, to the sufferer herself, a puzzling incident. Both times
the common sensibility is deeply affected, often in ways not
subjectively localizable ; the difference, I think, must be due
to the nascent associations of the common sensibility now

452 JO SI A H RO YCE.

with ideas of social situations, now with ideas of unsocial
bodily events. There are some chronic neurasthenic suf-.
ferers who, despite headaches, spinal pains, and other dis-
torted sensations innumerable, preserve for years a marvelous
self-possession in face of their disorder; very many other
such nervous sufferers, of the same general type, are
throughout self-consciously cowardly and abject. One can-
not assert that the latter class are more deranged in common
sensibility than are the former. But many a neurasthenic
man has really little to complain of except the unspeakable
wretchedness of his deranged self-consciousness. How can
one explain such phenomena without resort to the principles
of habit and association? The social habits, howevjer, of the
type now denned, at once furnish a vera causa for the inter-
pretation of some sensory disturbances as alterations of self-
consciousness, while other disturbances, equally great and
vague, get interpreted by the sufferer as merely external
events. To be sure we cannot yet give an exhaustive classi-
fication of the variations of the common sensibility into
those closely associated with social situations, and those not
associated, or but slightly associated, yet the contrast of
physical fear and of shame has already shown us that such a
classification might, with care, be more or less worked out.
We know, for instance, that the sexually tinged emotions
normally have very complex social associations. Conse-
quently, we may expect to find self-consciousness especially
deranged in disorders involving the sexual functions. This
expectation seems to be abundantly verified, even in ordinary
cases of disorder, such as the teacher of youth may some-
times see as well as the doctor ; and if one wants more veri-
fication, one may get it at will from the monumental records
that fill Krafft— Ebing's too well-known and ghastly book.
On the other hand, a sufferer from the emotional states
accompanying ordinary physical exhaustion, or from some
forms even of grief, or from a severe cold that does not give
the form of depression now associated with the grip, or from
some forms of even violent headache, often wonders how
much pain and emotional alteration he can endure without
any proportionate alteration of self-consciousness. And

OB SEX VA TIONS ON ANOMALIES OF SELF-CON SCIO USNESS. 453

these states are precisely such forms of consciousness as are
not so closely associated with social situations. Finally, the
emotions connected with laughter furnish an almost perfect
natural experiment for our purpose. There are three prin-
cipal sorts of laughter: the laughter of mere physical glee-
fulness, such as appears much in children, less in adults;
the laughter of scorn, and the laughter of the sense of humor.
The first is not an especially self-conscious affair; but the
laughter of scorn and of a sense of humor are both of them
always keenly self-conscious, involving what Hobbes called
'sudden glory in him that laugheth.' The emotions of the
two latter types involve social situations, present or sug-
gested. I shall find no time to point out at any length the
application of the foregoing analysis to the study of the asso-
ciative alterations of the socially tinged self-consciousness in
true melancholia, in mania, or in the exaltation of general
paralysis. But the mention of such alteration of the self
brings us at once to the next and final stage of our inquiry.

IV.

I have so far spoken of self-consciousness as it appears in
more or less explicitly social relations. But, one may reply,
"Are we not, at pleasure, self-conscious when we are quite
alone? Does not one reflect, does not one judge one's self?
Is lonely meditation free from self-consciousness? Is not
conscience a self-conscious affair? And yet in such cases
does one contrast an Ego with any literal non-Ego? In such
processes is not the Ego explicitly related to just the Ego,
alone by itself? And are there not, in the phenomena of
insanity, many alterations of this sort of purely internal self-
consciousness?" I reply at once that my theory is precisely
that habits once acquired in social intercourse can and do hold
over when we are alone, and can then apply within the content of
one's own mind. The transition is simple. First I can dra-
matically remember my actually past imitative deeds, my
quarrels, my successful social feats, my chagrins, my ques-
tionings, my criticisms of others, and the bearings of others
towards me. In all such cases I am self-conscious over
again in memory, by virtue of our now familiar contrast-

454 JO SI A H RO YCE.

effect. Further, as just seen, my emotions can vaguely sug-
gest social situations, indefinite in character to any degree.
By coalescence, a vast group of social habits of judging
others, and of feeling myself judged by them, can get woven
into a complex product such as is now my conscience. Con-
science is a well-knit system of socially acquired habits of
estimating acts — a system so constituted as to be easily
aroused into conscious presence by the coming of the idea
of any hesitantly conceived act. If conscience is aroused in
the presence of such a hesitant desire to act, one has, purely
as a matter of social habit, a disposition to have present both
the tendency to the action, and the disposition to judge it,
standing to one another in the now familiar relation of Ego
and non-Ego. Which one of them appears as the Ego,
which the non-Ego, depends upon which most gets posses-
sion, in the field of consciousness, of the common sensibility.
If the tendency to the estimated act is a passionate tendency,
a vigorous temptation, and if the conscientious judgment is
a coldly intellectual affair, then the situation dimly reminds
me of cases where other people, authoritative and dignified
rather than pleasing, have reproved my wishes. Conscience
is then the colder non-Ego, the voice of humanity, or of God.
My common sensibility merges with my passion. The re-
proof perhaps shames me ; yet / want to have my way ; only
that other, that authoritative inner non-Ego, my conscience,
will not let me go free. But if, on the other hand, the con-
ceived act is less keenly desired, and if my conscientious
plans are just now either fervently enthusiastic or sternly
resolute in my mind, then it is my conscience which merges
with my common sensibility, and I myself am now, in pres-
ence of the conceived act, as if judging another. I feel then
secure in my righteousness, and I look with disdain upon
that which would tempt me if I were weaker, but which now
is a mere non-Ego. It is in a similar fashion, by a dramatic
imitation not of actual, but of abstractly possible social rela-
tions, that I can question myself, and wait for an answer, can
reflect upon my own meaning, can admire myself, love my-
self, hate myself, laugh at myself, in short do or suffer in
presence of my own states and processes whatever social life

OBSERVATIONS ON ANOMALIES OF SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 4$$

lias taught me to do or to suffer in presence of the states and
processes of others. In every such case the central Ego is
so much of my conscious process as tends more to merge
with the common sensibility. My inner, but more peri-
pheral, relative non-Ego is so much of my conscious process
as tends more to resemble, in interest, in general tone or in
uncontrollable unexpectedness, the experiences which, in
ordinary social life, are due to other people. Yet since all
these inner contrasts are constantly corrected by my habits
of external perception and of memory, which remind me all
the while of a literal non-Ego outside of all these processes,
this inner sundering normally remains only, as Professor
Ladd has called it, dramatic — a sort of metaphor, which I
•can correct at pleasure, saying at any moment, "but all this
is merely Ego, after all. The real non-Ego is the world of
live other people yonder."

Thus the normal inner life of reflection, of conscience, of
meditation, and of the so-called « spiritual Ego' in general, is
•simply, in us human beings, an imitation, a brief abstract
and epitome, of our literal social life. We have no habits of
self-consciousness which are not derived from social habits,
counterparts thereof. Where the analogy of our relations
to our fellows ceases, reflection ceases also. And this is pre*
cisely what constitutes the limitation of our reflective pro-
cesses in philosophy and in psychology.

But surely, if this summarizes the conditions of our nor-
mal self-consciousness, when we are thinking alone, it also
.gives room for indefinitely numerous abnormal variations.
Suppose that there appear in the conscious field hallucina-
tions of the muscular sense, of the sort so well described in
Cramer's noted monograph. Let these be motor speech
hallucinations. Then the patient may observe the puzzling
phenomenon that, whenever he thinks, there is some myste-
rious tendency present that aims to objectify his thoughts,
in spoken words. Somebody or something either takes his
own thoughts away from him and speaks them, or forces
him, willy nilly, to speak them himself. The thoughts are
Jiis own. The sounding of them forth, in this way, is not
his. His thoughts run off his tongue, get spoken in his

456 JO SI AH RO YCE.

stomach, creak out in his shoes as he walks, are mockingly
echoed or in the end commented upon by another power.
This other power, this stealing of his thoughts, involves of
course a deep disturbance of his self-consciousness, which
tends gradually to pass over into a regular system of delu-
sions. Yet what does the process mean? It means, at first,
merely the appearance of uncontrollable elements of con-
sciousness, which by virtue of the habits connected with the
uncontrollable in general cannot get merged in the common
sensibility, and which are yet in a problematic and painfully
intimate relation to what he does recognize as his own. This
foreign power need not for a good while behave enough like
the true voice of another to become a genuine hallucinatory
comrade or enemy, as it would do and does if the patient
hears his voices without of himself recognizing their close
relation to his stream of thought. But in this uncontrolla-
ble hallucinatory thinking aloud there is enough suggestion
of the foreign to make the patient feel that his own thoughts
are getting somehow estranged from him. That these are
his own thoughts he at first knows, by virtue of the general
contrasts between real Ego and real non-Ego still present to
him. That they are getting estranged he knows, for that is
to any one a relative non-Ego which behaves more or less
as one's original social non-Ego, one's fellow in society, be-
haves. His behaviour is relatively uncontrollable ; and so
is here that of the patient's thoughts.

Or again, suppose that one's depressed emotional condi-
tion, as in melancholia, or at the outset of a delirium of sus-
picion or of persecution, contains emotions resembling the
normal emotions of conscientious guilt, or the feeling of
social dread. Then these feelings tend to assimilate in one's
actual surroundings, or in one's memories, data which sug-
gest, to one patient an actually believed social condemnation
of his deeds, or an actual judgment of his inner conscience
passed upon his sinfulness, while to another patient his own
sorts of emotion suggest an especially hostile scrutiny of
his appearance by the passers by, or an inner sense that he
must hide from possible scrutiny. On the other hand, feel-
ings quite the reverse of these suggest to the exalted general

OBSER VA TIONS ON ANOMALIES OF SELF-CONSCIO USNESS. 45 7

paralytic whatever remembered or fancied social relations,
expressing his vast powers, the fragments of left-over social
habits which still survive in his chaos permit him, in passing,
to express.

Or, once more, another patient has present to conscious-
ness two or more streams of feelings, impulses, thoughts,
which are sharply contrasted with one another, while the
portions of each stream more or less hang together, by virtue
of common contents or tone. All of these streams belong to
his general Ego, — this he recognizes by the normal contrast
with the actual external world. But meanwhile they have
their inner contrast, which is no longer, like the just men-
tioned contrasts in normal consciousness, a source of merely
dramatic metaphor. This abnormal contrast is intense,
uncontrollable, continuous. Now let the reflections or the
context of these streams be such as in any fashion to remind
the patient of any social relation, contest, rivalry, quarrel,
criticism, pity, questioning, discussion; and then the patient
can only say : « There are in me two or more selves, I am
divided.' If one of the streams involves more of the com-
mon sensibility than does the others, or more of the sense of
control, the patient may speak of the less favored streams as
other selves, or as the ' Other Fellow ' without having any
full-fledged delusion of a real outside oppressor. And in all
this there will be mere associations of ideas, mere socially
acquired habits, — no new mysteries of self-hood whatever.
Yet how complex the physical and psychological back-
ground of such abnormal habits may be, I will try to illus-
trate, as I close, by a single case.

(To be concluded.}

ON DREAMING OF THE DEAD.

BY HAVELOCK ELLIS.
London.

We know that among savages in many parts of the
world it is held that the soul in dreams leaves the body, to
wander over the earth. Tylor and others have further
shown that dreams play an important part in the evolution
of belief in an after-world. So far as I am aware, however,
no one has ever asserted that there is a peculiarity in the
mechanism of dreams of the dead which powerfully suggests
that our dead friends have only apparently died. For some
years I have given attention to the psychology of dreaming,
and collected the observations of my friends, and I wish
here to draw attention to a certain type of dream, and to
point out its significance from a primitive point of view, as
a factor in the wide-spread belief that death is only a transi-
tory and apparent phenomenon. I am only able to present
two series of dreams, occurring to two individuals, intimate
friends of my own. The individuals in question are very
unlike each other in character and temperament ; the dreams
were carefully recorded at the time (an indispensable point
in the study of dreaming) ; and it is possible to exclude
entirely the influence of suggestion, as each dreamer's
dreams were unknown to the other dreamer.

Observation I. — Mr. C., age about 28, a man of scientific training
and aptitudes. Shortly after his mother's death he repeatedly
dreamed that she had come to life again. She had been buried, but
it was somehow found out that she was not really dead. Mr. C.
describes the painful intellectual struggles that went on in these
dreams, the arguments in favor of death from the impossibility of
prolonged life in the grave, and how these doubts were finally
swallowed up in a sense of wonder and joy because his mother was
actually there, alive, in his dream.

These dreams became less frequent as time went on, but some
years later occurred an isolated dream which clearly shows a further
458

ON DREAMING OF THE DEAD. 459

stage in the same process. Mr. C. dreamt that his father had just
returned home, and that he (the dreamer) was puzzled to make out
where his mother was. After puzzling a long time he asked his
sister, but at the very moment he asked it flashed upon him — more,
he thinks, with a feeling of relief at the solution of a painful diffi-
culty than with grief — that his mother was dead.

Observation II. — Mrs. F., age about 30, highly intelligent but of
somewhat emotional temperament. A week after the death of a life-
long friend to whom she was greatly attached, Mrs. F. dreamed for
the first time of her friend, finding that she was alive, and then in
the course of the dream discovering that she had been buried alive.

A second dream occurred on the following night. Mrs. F.
imagined that she went to see her friend, whom she found in bed,
and to whom she told the strange things that she had heard (/. <?.,
that the friend was dead). Her friend then gave Mrs. F. a few
things as souvenirs. But on leaving the room Mrs. F. was told
that her friend was really dead, and had spoken to her after death.

In a fourth dream, at a subsequent date, Mrs. F. imagined that
her friend came to her, saying that she had returned to earth for a
few minutes to give her messages and to assure her that she was
happy in another world and in the enjoyment of the fullest life.

A third dream occurred more than a year later. Some one
brought to Mrs. F., in her dream, the news that her friend was still
alive ; she was taken to her and found her as in life. The friend
said she had been away, but did not explain where or why she had
been supposed dead. Mrs. F. asked no questions and felt no curi-
osity, being absorbed in the joy of finding her friend still alive, and
they proceeded to talk over the things that had happened since they
last met. It was a very vivid, natural and detailed dream, and on
awaking Mrs. F. felt somewhat exhausted. Although not super-
stitious, the dream gave her a feeling of consolation.

I have made few inquiries as to the frequency of this type
of dreams. It does not appear to occur to every one. I
can, however, record a slight personal observation.

Observation III. — I dreamed that I saw a dead friend, the editor
of a psychological journal, alive and well in his room, together with
two foreign psychologists also known to me, who had apparently suc-
ceeded him in the editorship of the journal, for I saw their names
on the title-page of a number of it which was put in my hands. It
surprised me that, though alive and well, he should have ceased to
edit the journal ; the theory by which I satisfactorily accounted to

460 HA VELOCK ELLIS.

myself for his appearance was that, though he had been so near
death that his life was despaired of, he had not actually died ; his
death had been prematurely reported. It flashed across my dream-
consciousness, indeed, that I had read obituaries of my friend in the
papers, but this reminiscence merely suggested the reflection that
some one had been guilty of a grave indiscretion.

This personal observation is inconclusive, the central
difficulty of the situation being too easily eluded ; the dream,
however, clearly belongs to the same type and illustrates the
flimsy nature of the explanations which satisfy us in dreams,
provided they accord with the image actually present to
consciousness. It would be interesting to know if this type
of dream is as common as my observations suggest, and also
to ascertain the nature of the dream-process regarding the
dead among remote and uncivilized peoples.1

It does not seem difficult to account for this dream-pro-
cess and for its frequency. This dream-type is only a
special variety of the commonest species of dream, in which
two or more recent but totally unrelated reminiscences flow
together and form a single bizarre congruity, a confusion in
the strict sense of the word. The death of a friend sets up
a barrier which cuts into two the stream of impressions con-
cerning that friend. Thus two streams of images flow into
sleeping consciousness, one representing the friend as alive,
the other as dead. The first stream comes from older an<
richer sources ; the second is more poignant, but also more
recent and more easily exhausted. The two streams clash

JIn Japan stories of the returning of the dead are very common. Hearn gives
one as told by a Japanese which closely resembles the type of dream I am discussing :
"A lover resolves to commit suicide on the grave of his sweetheart. He found her
tomb and knelt before it and prayed and wept, and whispered to her that which he was
about to do. And suddenly he heard her voice cry to him ' Anata ! ' and felt her
hand upon his hand ; and he turned and saw her kneeling beside him, smiling and
beautiful as he remembered her, only a little pale. Then his heart leaped so that he
could not speak for the wonder and the doubt and the joy of that moment. But she
said : ' Do not doubt ; it is really I. I am not dead. It was all a mistake. I was
buried because my parents thought me dead — buried too soon. Yet you see I am not
dead, not a ghost. It is I ; do not doubt it ! ' " It is perhaps worth mentioning that
the incident told in the Fourth Gospel (Ch. xx., vv. n-iS) as occurring to Mary
Magdalene when at the tomb of Jesus, recalls the dream-process of fusion of images.
She turns and sees, as she thinks, the gardener, but in the course of conversation it
flashes on her that he is Jesus, risen from the tomb.

ON DREAMING OF THE DEAD. 461

in dream-consciousness, both, from the inevitable conditions
of dream-life, being accepted as true, and they eventually
mix to form an absurd harmony, in which the older and
stronger images (in accordance with that recognized tendency
for old psychic impressions generally to be most stable) pre-
dominate over. those that are more recent. Thus my friend
in Observation I. seems to have begun his dream by imagin-
ing that his mother was alive as of old ; then his more recent
experiences interfered with the assertion of her death. This
resulted in a struggle between the old-established images
representing her as alive and the later ones representing
her as dead. The idea that she had come to life again was
evidently a theory that had arisen in his brain to harmonize
these two opposing currents. The theory was not accepted
easily ; all sorts of scientific objections arose to oppose it,
but there could be no doubt, for his mother was there. The
dreamer is in the same position as a paranoiac who con-
stantly seems to hear threatening voices; henceforth he is
absorbed in inventing a theory (electricity, hypnotism, or
whatever it may be,) to account for his hallucinations, and
his whole view of life is modified accordingly. The dreamer,
in the cases I am here concerned with, sees an image of the
dead person as alive, and is therefore compelled to invent a
theory to account for this image; the theories that most
easily suggest themselves are either that the dead person
has never really died, or else that he has come back from
the dead.

I think it worth while to record these phenomena, leaving
others to prove or disprove their frequency. Such dreams
seem to make a deep impression on the dreamer, even in an
age in which no supernatural significance is attached to
dreams.1 If, as I venture to suggest, such dreams have an
organic foundation, which causes them to occur with some
degree of frequency, they must in more primitive times have
constituted a significant factor in the evolution of culture.

I 1 may, however, refer to the fact that in insanity dreams are still occasionally
an important influence. For references to hallucinations begun in sleep and finally
accepted, see Fere, 'The Pathology of Dreams,' Brain, vol. IX (1887), p. 488. A
dream, it has lately been shown, played a prominent part in the development of
Cowper's insanity.

EMOTION, DESIRE AND INTEREST: DESCRIPTIVE.

BY s. F. M'LENNAN.

Fellow University of Chicago.

After all that has been written in regard to emotion it may
seem superfluous for any one to take up the subject again.
But inasmuch as one can still hear a rumbling in the distance
and the different parties to the strife continue it in what one
might call an exegesis of what they did mean in certain of their
writings, it may be permitted to bring forward a few thoughts
suggested partly by the controversy. The general descrip-
tive outline to be attempted may not contain many things new
— perhaps, as isolated statements, none. But it seems to the
writer that these points may easily bear a good deal more
looking into and may be carried into adjacent fields with the
result that new light will be thrown upon the subject. Though
cheerfully acknowledging the influence of all that has of late
been written upon the matter in hand, it is but fair to state
that the general conclusion in regard to emotion, although the
same as that maintained by Professor Dewey, yet was worked
out independently by the writer and in outline was formulated
at the very beginning of the late strife. Of this, Professor
Baldwin, to whom the outline was first communicated, can
bear testimony. But leaving this aside, I hope that what
is to be said may vindicate its own appearance as regards
emotion and may throw some light upon the other topics.

The problem in hand is a description of the nature and
inter-relation of emotion, desire and interest.

When one begins to ask himself what concrete emotional
experiences mean a difficulty at once arises. Are we dealing
with emotion, desire, or with a fact of interest? At first sight
our way seems clear, but a closer inspection shows that our
statement must shift about. An element of desire may be
contained right in the centre of the concrete whole denomi-
462

EMOTION, DESIRE AND INTEREST: DESCRIPTIVE. 463

nated emotion, e. g., hate. At the same time it may equally
well be termed, what it really is, a matter of interest. What,
then, are we to make of it? Of course the old pigeon-hole
theory has been put to rest, and we know that all mental
states are interconnected and should expect that no one would
be shut off from the others. But this free and easy way of
settling the question will scarcely do, and we shall simply be
passing over something which will help us clear up our ideas.
Suppose, for instance, that we enquire into two facts, ever
old, ever new, facts that have caused much laughter and
much pain, but which, after all, show themselves to be funda-
mentally interesting. I refer to the well known examples of
love and hatred. These have figured often enough in descrip-
tion and will serve for the present as well as any others. By
this time the human race should be fairly familiar with these
facts, and yet when we try to make clear to ourselves what
they really mean we find it no easy matter. Is either an emo-
tion, a desire, or is it interest?

They seem to be all three. All know how * interesting '
for those concerned these different feelings are. They lie at
the very roots of the life and stir up the whole being. How-
ever, instead of being regarded primarily as facts of interest
they are customarily referred to the realm of emotion. But
the moment we look more closely this will not do. They are
just as truly desires as any facts could well be. To make this
clearer let us try and analyze the experiences somewhat.

Take love first. Before the fountains are opened up there
must be some primary interest. Those who do not attract
our attention in some way call out no feeling. But again,
many who interest us in this primary manner open up no
fountains of affection. Let the interest, as is often said, be-
come deeper, and before the parties know they are in Cupid's
toils ; there is a general upset, and often they seem to an out-
sider to be beside themselves. The general turmoil of feel-
ings has been so often dwelt upon in poetry and in prose that
I need do no more than simply mention it. We see plenty
Romeos and Juliets round us yet who confirm the statement,
and if any are doubtful a little consideration of present or past
experience will give them some light. This stage of the ex-

464 S. F. M'LENNAN.

perience, while most interesting, is truly described as emo-
tional. But this is not all. In his love the youth is not sat-
isfied with being worked up, with having his brain in a whirl,
with hearing the clap-clap of his unruly heart. As part of
his love he desires to possess his idol. The absence of the
fair one is misery to him ; his whole self demands that he
should obtain and love her for his own. Love would not be
the tremendous engine that it is were it not for this. Even
when the emotional element predominates the element of de-
sire is seen really to enter into the experience. But as the
inner conflict becomes harmonized and settles down into a
definite outgo, the account shifts, the emotion as such ceases,
and desire becomes the prominent thing.

We now pass to the third stage. When desire is realized,
and the youth has attained his end, does the love then cease?
When such cases come before us we feel at once that the
genuine experience was not there ; we feel that in the full
experience that the possession but continues and strengthens
the regard. Love, then, truly becomes itself, and, amid the
storms and stress of life, shows that nature which fills us with
wonder and reverence when we come in contact with a fair
example of it. How deep and lasting is the love of a parent
for a child, of a husband for the mate who has stood by him,
and with him weathered the many storms in life's journey.
Yet in neither of these cases do we find the strong upheaval
of early days. Nor again is the present experience one of
desire, for the object has long been obtained. It is neither
of these forms, but it is still love, love which has « set ' itself
in the very citadel of life. We are brought back to interest
once more, but this time not a passing interest, rather the
deepest thing in life. Interest here is seen to be at the be-
ginning, to underlie, and to be at the end of both emotion
and desire. Out of it they arise and to it they return.

We shall next turn to the negative view. Here we shall
notice the same inter-relation. Hatred arises out of a nega-
tive interest. It takes some little nagging, some little fooling
about, some thwarting of purpose and treading on toes before
' our feelings are aroused,' as we say. When our temper is
up and we hate the person, as we look at the matter from the

EMOTION, DESIRE AND INTEREST: DESCRIPTIVE. 465

one side there is the same upsetting of ourselves. Our feelings
storm and toss; they seem to overpower us, as swell after
swell rushes on. But here, just as truly as in the case of love,
we find a desire to harm or repulse the one who has injured
us, bedded in the very nature of hate. As our inner life be-
comes steadied, this comes quite prominently into view. The
account moves over to the desire side, and the state becomes
one almost entirely of wishing to get even with the offender.
This truly is bad enough, but human nature has deeper depths
still. The momentary desire to harm may settle down into
a set line of opposition ingrained in our nature. Hatred has
fully become itself, shown fully its inner nature. The rush
and swirl are past and gone; there is no desire of getting
even in any particular way, but a steady persistent outgo of
opposition which knows no change. Such a hatred never
lets up, and follows to the very grave. Here, too, we return
to interest — a negative interest.

After this general description a closer analysis of these
states will be of value. The relation of emotion and desire
may first come up.

As we can easily see, both are organic wholes in which
several aspects may be detected. Again they are dynamic
things. No very great acquaintance with the nature of either
is necessary to see this. The organic unity of emotions,
especially as containing several aspects, has often been over-
looked. In psychologies the feeling element has been made
prominent. One is led to believe that it is the whole thing,
and besides is simply an accompaniment of the thought pro-
cess. Out of this it seems to me a great deal of the present
confusion has arisen. Now let us take the concrete facts,
and staying closely by them, see what they mean. Take
which emotion or desire you will, and it is evident at once
that it is not made up of parts set off from one another.
These parts are aspects of one living whole. Further emo-
tions and desires belong to the reactive consciousness. As
distinguished from volition, they represent an involuntary
reaction of our nature ; as distinguished from impulse — a cer-
tain solidity or definiteness of outgo. Within this agreement
as to unity, dynamic force and reflex nature we shall later on

466 S. F. MCLENNAN.

call attention to an essential distinction between the two
states. Here we note that our nature rises up without being
bidden, and, more than this, it usually directs whatever
bidding there may be. Whenever the stimulus is present
these phenomena immediately show themselves as driving,
pressing, impelling and moving. Often we strive voluntarily
to hold them in check, and find trouble.

Turning to an analysis of the different aspects by each
state, emotion comes first to hand.

In the nature of emotion there is inner strife and yet
unity. Our nature as a whole arises in answer to some
stimulus, but the answer is a conflicting one. There is a lack
of equilibrium, our nature sways to and fro, seems rent asun-
der, but all the time seeks to come to harmony. Instinctive
tendencies pull together and apart. The character of the
emotion is determined by the general nature of the strife.
Anger is most keenly felt when our tendency to thrash the
other person is held in check by the suggestion that we are
not quite equal to the task, and had better not start in.
When we are badly frightened the tendency to run, and even
the running itself, is inhibited by weak knee reaction, due to
the thought of danger. Every time the thought of this
comes with a pulse upon us we seem stopped up. Emotion
would thus show itself to be an instinctive 'preparing' for
action — in which there is lack of harmony or coordination.
As regards the moments of emotion, we have (i) a content.
That every emotion has an intellectual element is quite easily
seen by examining any of the concrete states known by this
name. We see it in hate, anger, joy, dread, and all the
rest, readily distinguishing them from one another. We may
say, indeed, that the emotion terminates upon some external
aspect, and may think that it is simply an accompaniment.
This may be all very true, but it is just as true that in the
emotion, as part of it, there is a content or object — this very
situation as it is for us as interpreted. In hatred as an ex-
perience there is the idea of ourselves injured, and of the
offender as reckoned with. Take all the emotions in succes-
sion and the same thing is found.

EMOTION, DESIRE AND INTEREST: DESCRIPTIVE. 467

The question here becomes interesting as to how this
content arises. Is the object (our interpretation) there imme-
diately or is it built up? Consciousness soon makes this
clear. The object is built up dynamically by our reaction ;
we receive a stimulation, a suggestion ; and our progressive
interpretation, our grasping of the meaning makes the situa-
tion what it is to us, as expressed in intellectual terms. Not
until the interpretation is complete, till we see what the thing
means is the emotion what it is for us. The emotion, as a
whole, and in its aspect of content varies just as the interpre-
tation. An act may arouse very angry feelings at the time,
but seen in another light may cause joy. The joy and anger
are what they are, as our way of looking at the matter is, as
we perceive that the situation will or will not fit in with our
life and is for our weal or woe.

(2) An Attitude. The content represented our intellectual
valuing of the stimulus. Every stage of this valuing has
another side which plays its part, and at every turn hands
in its result for the construction of the situation for us.
As we look closely at any emotional state we see that imme-
diately, instinctively, we take up an attitude toward or
against the stimulus as we make it out to be. At the sug-
gestion of harm we are up in arms at once. When some one
tramps on our toes we feel like hitting him, i. e., we have an
attitude toward him. The moment, however, that we notice
that it was accidental, and apology is made, our attitude
sweeps round and we say that it is all right. This shows
that the attitude, too, is a relative thing, varying accord-
ing to the suggestion. As we study our own states it
is quite wonderful to notice how our attitudes sweep
about. A word, a little incident, may be sufficient to give
the whole experience a different coloring. As to the char-
acter of the attitude, it is determined by the nature of the
person. This shows at once. Take for example the case of
grief. One person is literally crushed, and cannot stand the
strain, another may explode in angry denunciation ; a third,
while 'cut to the quick,' as we say, takes up his burden and
plods along his weary way. In fact, here all manner of na-
tures are shown. There are those whose emotions seem like

468 S. F. M'LENNAN.

the foam on the sea : they are all a-bubbling and a-gushing,
but there is no stability, and we turn away weary. We feel
that there is weakness, a lack of determination, strength,
force of character. Other natures may be slow to arouse,
but are firm and steady. When the emotions of such are
aroused we are conscious that there is some meaning to them.
If they are opposed to us we at once begin to gird ourselves
for the fray. We respect if we do not love. This strength
and solidity of the emotion often goes together with a keen-
ness and fineness of reaction — complexity and stability build
themselves together. Now this instinctive reaction, of what-
ever character it may be, dynamically and progressively
builds up as the interpretation of the situation goes on. It,
too, reacts upon the suggestion and modifies it, The valu-
ation becomes what it is as much from our attitude as from
anything else. It becomes what we instinctively feel we can
make of it. To one person the situation is one to be avoided ;
to another to be entered into as he finds he cannot or can
make something of it.

Here, also, we find two great lines of cleavage — one an in-
nate tendency to absorb the new situation, to make it part of
our life ; the other to avoid it, throw it off, or keep it from
us altogether. These two attitudes show themselves as
attraction and repulsion. In our love we naturally <go' to
persons ; in our hatred we seek to keep them away or to get
rid of them altogether. Whatever seems good to us and
fits in with our own life we go toward ; from whatever seems
evil or will harm us we turn away.

(3) Beside the intellectual and attitude aspects there is
something else to be considered, viz., the swell or drive of
feeling. This we are all clearly conscious of. It seems as if
our whole nature were boiling up, or as if a cold, frigid hand
had laid its icy grip upon us. This swell or drive of feeling
influences us in two distinct lines, as the others do, and con-
tributes its share in a very material way to the experience
in whole and in part. It seems a direct and immediate
organic answer to the stimulus as it is being interpreted.
When we think that some injury has been done us, and we
resent it, our very blood appears to boil up within us, and

EMOTION, DESIRE AND INTEREST: DESCRIPTIVE. 469

the more we think of it the worse it becomes. Every new
feature stirs us up more, and our feelings are like oil added to
the fire. Our whole nature flames up and becomes colored
with the burning. Our attitude becomes more definite and
the intellectual valuation more clearly set forth. As wave
after wave of tumultuous feeling comes rolling in upon us our
hands clench harder and our injury seems greater. The
emotion as a whole is filled in.

This carries us to (4) the color tone. We have noted
that emotion was a state in which we were in unstable
equilibrium, various tendencies were at war with one another,
and gave the qualitative determination to the state. In all
the three aspects which we found within this dynamic whole
two great lines of cleavage show up. In the intellectual side
there was the suggestion of weal or woe ; as to attitude, an
impulse toward or away from, for or against ; on the side of
feeling, elevation or depression, expansion or contraction of
life. When we turn to the pleasure and pain coloring the
same appears. Pleasure attaches to those states in which we
find an idea of good, an attitude toward, a feeling of expansion,
while pain attaches to the opposite. These various states
fluctuate a great deal, and emotions may rapidly alternate or
mix up. But if we watch closely we can easily see that as
the 'cue' of the emotion is so is the tone.

Enough has been said to place before us the nature of
emotion. The next thing to call attention to is its transfor-
mation. When emotion has been aroused in any individual
we always notice that attention is called out. We endeavor
to harmonize the conflicting elements, so that in unrestrained
action they may pour forth. A deliberative state of affairs
is at once brought on. When this is ended, and harmony has
come, when we know what we are going to do, the state
passes over into volition. Now, if the action is one which we
may immediately carry out, the subjective determination is
made objective by gripping on, by our fulfilling the conditions
upon which our past experience has shown that the expres-
sion depends, or in searching for new combinations whereby
expression may be brought about. But if we cannot imme-
diately put our determination into effect the volition becomes

470 S. F. M'LENNAN.

a harmonized way in which we are prepared to react on
stimulation. As such it passes over into desire. Emotions
then tend to pass into harmonized immediate action or vo-
lition, and into desire as instinctive 'preparedness' for action.
We must note, however, that this preparedness does not
4 set' immediately, and any new suggestion may bring about
the old turmoil. Perhaps, after the strain of some severe
conflict, in which our inner life seems torn to pieces, we
arrive at some conclusion. We seem to be settled down, and
suppose that our nature will at once answer in a steady outgo.
How often we are deceived. A new point of view will start
up the whole turmoil again. Until desire is 'set' it may pass
back into emotion, and we find a continual vibration between
the two.

It is now time for us to pass from the consideration of
emotion to that of desire. Many things which have been
said above have already given the outlines of what must now
be set forth in fuller form.

Desire, like emotion, is a dynamic whole. Our nature in
strong, definite lines goes surging and charging forth. Here,
too, we have a good example of reflex activity. Upon the
presence of a stimulus there is an immediate outgo of our-
selves— a pressing, driving outward, often in such tumultu-
ous fashion, indeed, that it seems impossible to hold the reins
over the steeds in their wild career. In emotion we found
inhibition. Here, too, it is found, but not in the same place.
In emotion there was inhibition within the state itself. There
was simply a preparing for action. In desire there is no lack
of harmony within the experience. Our nature pours forth
in harmonized, though often tumultuous swell. The inhi-
bition is to the reaction seeking to express itself. We in-
stinctively know what we want to do — our nature pours out
to this, but there is some stoppage, some hindrance, and we
feel pent up, our reaction cannot discharge itself. The
stronger the inhibition the stronger our desire waxes, swell-
ing and pressing forward until a limit of impossibility is
reached and the whole is violently crushed. To take a simple
case. When we are far from home, and the thought of those
there is borne in with force .upon .us, our nature reacts and we

EMOTION, DESIRE AND INTEREST: DESCRIPTIVE. 471

go forth to them. But something stops us. At such mo-
ments our longing grows stronger, and we can scarcely con-
tain ourselves. These facts show us the essential distinction
and relation of desire and emotion. In the latter the inhi-
bition is markedly within, there is simply a preparing for
definite reaction ; in the former the preparing has passed into
preparedness, but to the preparedness there is some outer
inhibition which prevents discharge.

Following along the lines marked out in emotion, we shall
pass on to an analysis of desire.

(1) In desire, as in emotion, there is a content object.
In this case, as in the other, the content is dynamically built
up by our reaction upon some stimulus, and represents our
intellectual valuation or interpretation of the situation. This
situation, as interpreted by us, is what we want, and our
interpretation viewed from the intellectual side is the object
as it is for us. Here, too, the old law of relativity reigns.
What is desirable to one person is not desirable to another.
There are great variations. In fact, here, as in emotion, we
see the expression of the inner character or nature of each in-
dividual. To one material things alone have value and are
desirable ; to another the great centre of life may be in the
realm of art. In presence of these the soul rises up in
all its power and seems striving to burst the limits imposed
upon it. Here, also, we find two great lines of cleav-
age. Those things which appear to fit into the life of the
individual, as expanding or enlarging, become goods to be
sought. On the other hand, things which have a sinister im-
port, which would cause contraction or suppression of our
life, in whole or in part, become aspects of aversion — we
loathe them.

(2) Looking inward again, we find an attitude as in emotion.
But as we have seen, it is an attitude harmonious in itself, so
that the various elements fall together in one outgoing stream.
Reflexly we pour out toward or against the situation. Those
things which have become objects of desire we are immed-
iately impelled toward. In aversion we cannot help but be
conscious of repelling the object — it has become one to be got
out of the way, and -at once we seek to relieve ourselves of

4/2 S. F. M'LENNAN.

its presence. Here again the two great lines of discharge
are seen and it is also to be noted that, as in emotion, our im-
mediate attitude toward an object goes to make it what it is
for us. Without using more detail we shall pass to the third
element.

(3) We shall term this, as the same aspect in emotion has
been termed, the 'feel/ In desire, as notably as in emotion,
our inner springs are opened up and pour forth in tumul-
tuous fashion. The more the reaction is hindered and
we are shut off from some object dear to us, or something
hateful is forced upon us, the more our nature surges and
boils until it sometimes seems as if all barriers would be burst
and we could contain ourselves no longer. Also, as this
storm of feeling boils up and rolls in upon us, the intellectual
valuation is enhanced, the more powerful becomes the strain
upon our reaction. The desire as a whole is increased and
rapidly passes on to its climax.

We now turn to (4) the color-tone of desire. As con-
nected with the striving or straining this is always painful,
but as regards the suggestion of satisfaction in the object and
the impulse thereto it is pleasurable. Pleasure attaches to
the prospective side and pain to the present. On the pros-
pective side pleasure attaches to that which fits in with the
life, sustaining and expanding it, and also to the suggested
state of freed life when the contracting or damaging object
of aversion is removed. Summing up these, we may say
here as elsewhere that pleasure as color-tone indicates that
which ideally or organically makes or appears to make for the
expansion of life, while pain attaches to that which appears to
contract or destroy our life in any department.

In emotion it was noted that the upheaval called forth
active attention. So here we find that the craving of desire
or the impulsion of aversion calls out our attention strongly,
so that slowly or rapidly we seek to know what to do. This
state is often one quite perturbed but nevertheless in its
nature it is one of deliberation. When our minds are made
up and we determine to act, the desire passes over into voli-
tion in which for the time being our keenest interest is cen-
tred. As our whole self, reflex and active, is engaged or

EMO TSON, DESIRE AND INTEREST : DESCRIP 77 VE. 47 3

absorbed in the gaining of our end, the state is pre-eminently
one of interest. True, in so far as one cannot attain one's end
at once, desire remains and crops out in full force whenever
our attention reverts to it particularly ; but in so far as we
are bound up in our action, interest is at its maximum. Where
this is so, even when our action is directed to the overcoming
of some hateful thing, we find the keenest pleasure. When our
action is paralyzed and nothing can be done the color-tone
becomes painful in the extreme. Free unimpeded action is
interesting and pleasurable — impeded action or lack of it is
painful and disinteresting.

Something farther is to be said. If our action is directed
simply to one end it soon becomes monotonous. On the
other hand the more we exercise in regard to anything the
more interesting it becomes. Some line of action which per-
haps was not very interesting at first but which has become
set in our lives, connected and bound up with all that makes
life worthful to us, shows itself to be a matter of deepest
interest. The momentary interests pass over into the deep
life interests, and, as such, constitute those things upon which
we habitually react.

In gathering up what has been said we notice that those
things which in any way come within the realm of our well-
being, become matters of interest to us positively or neg-
atively. Momentary interests, if continually reacted upon,
pass gradually out of the immediate focus of the attention
and become set in our nature. As they become set they
become most interesting. When some new element of exper-
ience appears and it cannot be immediately assimilated but
sets up different modes of reaction not yet harmonized within
themselves, we have emotion. When the reaction immed-
iately arises and is harmonized within itself but is inhibited
in discharging, we have desire. These when attended to
pass over into the immediate interest of action and although
for a time vibrating from one to another, emotion tends to
pass over into desire, which is interest inhibited. When
inhibition is removed and the set reaction pours forth and
calls out the active attention we have deepest interest.

474 & F. M'LENNAN.

Fundamental to all as the beginning and end we have
interest immediate, or life. Also the two great courses of
cleavage are seen to lie along the lines which make for the
contraction or expansion of life. Wherever there is contrac-
tion of life the color-tone is pain; where expansion, pleasure.

REACTION TIME WITH REFERENCE TO RACE.

BY R. MEADE BACHE.

The fact of the coordinated existence to common obser-
vation of the apparently completed, final man, obscures in
the minds of the multitude the rationale of his muscular
movements. It is generally believed that in health, every
one of those movements, whether in waking or sleeping, is
derived from an act of either self-conscious or semi-self-con-
scious will. But physiology proves that some movements
are simply reflex, as when, for instance, the hand may be
said to draw itself away from a burn, and that others, al-
though secondarily reflex, are still purely automatic, as when
a child, having learned to walk, can walk thereafter without
other self-consciousness than that necessary to start the
machinery of walking ; and of course every one knows that
the vital movements, such as the beating of the heart and
the processes of digestion, go on entirely irrespective of
self-consciousness and will. Deep down in the physical con-
stitution of man, graduated to his present condition through
successively higher and higher types, with corresponding
advance in structure and function, lies plain evidence of the
derivation of certain contradistinguished movements, namely,
automatic as contrasted with volitional movements. As the
skull itself was, as discovered by Goethe, derived from
upper vertebras, it needs no demonstration to prove that, in
the preceding period, there was no brain ; and as all animals
now provided with crania must then, nevertheless, have lived
and moved and had their being, it also stands to reason that
will, which has its organic seat in the brain, could have had
no existence in that preceding period.

What, then, in one era of that primordial time, represent-
ing millions upon millions of years ago, constituted animal
life? What indeed in -some of :the present forms of life, as

475

4/6 X. MEADE BACHE.

in the case of the simplest, the amoeba, entitles them, as
little protoplasmic masses, to be regarded as possessing
animal life? Assimilation of food in a way analogous to
digestion, and with a difference from vegetable life, — through
a law almost universal even in the misty borderland between
the lowest forms of animal and vegetable life, — the imbibition
of nutriment in higher chemical combination than vegetable
life can use it. So, also, in some of the past history of in-
cipient man, he, too, was a creature destitute of capacity for
the designed taking of food and direction of energy, destitute
of any capacity for movement except that which was purely
reflex, not purposive. It follows, as proved by biology,
anatomy, and physiology, working hand in hand, that man
having been evolved from successive forms which, at the
beginning and long afterwards, were reflex in their move-
ments, must continue, in harmony with his present environ-
ment, to be so endowed. Development depends upon natural
selection and functional use, and these are in turn dependent
upon environment, and man's environment has not so changed
as to enable him to dispense with reflex, and secondary-
reflex, combined in automatic movements.

The foundation of man's earthly existence is and was
what Huxley terms 'the physical basis of life,' protoplasm;
and now, in the highest estate which he has reached, meta-
bolism of that basis, the chemical building up to higher
forms and the breaking down to lower forms of protoplasm,
represents the varying intensity with which he lives. So
varied in its conditions and consequent manifestations is this
physical basis of life that Dr. Michael Foster writes in the
article 'Physiology,' in the Encyclopaedia Britannica, "the
protoplasm of one muscle must differ from that of another
muscle in the same kind of animal, and the protoplasm of
Smith's biceps must differ from that of Jones's." Biologists
and physiologists do not deny to protoplasm, even in its
simplest forms, the quality of consciousness. If they did, it
would be impossible to draw the line where consciousness
begins in one form of life and where it ends in another. In
a certain broad, intelligible sense, it may be said generally,
that where we see life of even the lowest form assimilating

REACTION TIME WITH REFERENCE TO RACE. 477

food of a certain chemical constitution, there is animal
existence and consciousness. There are exceptions in plant
life, but they are few. But the consciousness referred to is
not the kind that is covered by the term * self-consciousness,'
or by another term that is used to mark the distinction —
' awareness.' By way of illustration of the difference, it may
be said that the eye may be open and a picture of surround-
ing objects necessarily on the retina, but yet the mind may
take no cognizance of the picture : the picture must be seen,
but it may not be perceived. So also, in the lower pro-
toplasmic life, there is consciousness for the requirements of
mere being, but not 'awareness* of being and of its manifes-
tations.

As, at the remote period indicated, in which millions
upon millions of years are involved, man having no skull,
and therefore no capacity of 'awareness,' his functions were
then only reflex. Graduated beyond that point, he yet, in
correspondence with his acquired vertebrate formation, be-
came possessed of nervous structure serving the needs of
his advancing form of life. If the being from which he was
derived had no skull, it had neither cerebrum, cerebellum,
pons, nor medulla oblongata, all of which are contained
within the skull. He must at one time have had only a
spinal cord, the present structure of which makes it a nerve
centre as well as a conductor of nervous impressions. There-
fore, in the being which was to become man, the spinal
cord, which now represents the nervous agency of voluntary
movements and tactile impressions must, as it was not domi-
nated by will through the presence of brain, have been the
seat of mere vital impressions and reflex action unaccom-
panied by perception. An animal, the amphioxus, the lowest
•of the vertebrates, still extant, has no head, but merely a
vertebral column. The condition of man differs essentially
now from that of his past. In addition to the spinal cord's be-
ing now more highly differentiated, it may also now be domi-
nated by the will, through the organ of the brain, and it
generally is, even in a measure during the incoordination of
the nervous system during sleep, for the sense of existence
and of personal identity is never lost even in dreams.

4/8 V J?. MEADE BACHE.

Endowed as man now additionally is, he consists of two
physical beings, one of which, automatic, may or may not at
times be dominated by the other, the intellectual, gifted with
perception, intention, and will. He is, moreover, so organ-
ized now, and must so remain as long as the requirements of
his present environment endure, as to bring it about that the
dominant brain can give general, instead of particular, in-
structions to its automatic slave, which the latter will faith-
fully carry out to the extent of its physical ability. The
automatic man is the educated slave of the brain, as proved
by the fact that the art of walking, as well as all other com-
plex actions, had to be acquired through the expenditure of
a certain amount of instruction, attention, effort, and time.
Walking is a complex muscular performance in which the
man wills that his body shall walk, and leaves to his auto-
matic part the execution of the task. Having been once
acquired, the ability has become and remains purely auto-
matic, and whatever may be said of walking applies with
equal force to any other complex muscular movement of man.
One should not suppose that when an athlete is striking the
punching bag of a gymnasium with the utmost rapidity of
which he is by training capable, that each blow emanates
from a special act of will. If that were so, each blow would
show the ' reaction time ' of the man ; that is, the interval
between perception and action. But this is obviously not
so, for the number of blows, dividing the time in which they
are struck, proves that intermediate perception between
every two is eliminated. When, for instance, Corbett, the
boxer, stands in profile and strikes the bag as rapidly as pos-
sible, the play of his forearms resolves itself into a blur, in
which their outlines are scarcely visible. In striking the
punching bag, perception for each action represented by a
blow is discarded. The will determines that the blows shall
be delivered, that they shall be delivered with a certain
rapidity, and it continues throughout the operation to super-
vise their delivery, but it cannot supervise each, any more
than it can determine their speed, which necessarily depends
upon the automatic excellence of the instrument with which
it is dealing. The will, which means simply the mind

REACTION TIME WITH REFERENCE TO RACE. 4/9

resolved into action, has, in the case under consideration,
nothing to do with the matter but to start, to preside over
the action, to modify, and to stop it.

The preceding statements of fact bring us face to face
with an important conclusion to be drawn which entirely
differs from popular conception of the subject. Herbert
Spencer somewhere calls attention to the contrast between
the savage and the civilized man, in the circumstance that
the former is so much more than the latter a creature of
secondary reflex movements, and he illustrates this by re-
marking that, if a savage hurts his foot against a stone, the
likeliest immediate response on his part is to kick the stone;
an action indicating a development far inferior to that of a
civilized, not to say an intellectual man. Now, the popular
notion is, that the higher the intelligence of a man, the more
immediately responsive his movements must be to stimulus.
But we have already seen reason to believe that, all educated
movements being automatic, it is the lower, and not the
higher man, who should be more responsive to stimuli of the
sort which are related to secondary reflex action, that men,
in proportion to their intellectuality, should tend less and
less to quickness of response in the automatic sphere, that
the reflective man should be the slower being. That this is
so I have for a long while believed, and I find to my mind a
sufficient reason for its so being in the fact that the auto-
matic preceded the intellectual condition of man, and that,
with the decline of his primal rude life, secondary reflex
movements should have become in lesser and lesser degree a
necessity for his self-preservation. He should have dis-
carded, I thought, in proportion to his intellectual advance,
whatever was becoming less and less useful to him in his
changed environment. In all evolution is modified or dis-
carded whatever there is of lessening or no requirement for
life under new conditions.

The popular notion that the more highly organized a
human being is, the quicker ought to be the response to
stimuli, is true only of the sphere of higher thought, not at
all of that of auditory, visual, or tactile impressions, which
invite secondary reflex action. As here stated, response to

480 R. MEADE BACHE.

such stimuli, not depending upon the more highly organized,
but upon the less highly organized portion of the nervous
system, the most ordinary intelligence should suffice for its
exercise; and in proportion to intellectual advancement,
there should be, through the law of compensation, a waning
in the efficiency of the automatism of the individual. It has
been contended, as an unanswerable argument, by a crucial
test, that other things being apparently equal, high intelli-
gence in one man as compared with another would result in
the favorable issue to him of a pugilistic contest in which he
might be engaged with that other. But here is introduced
an element which is not necessarily involved in considera-
tion of the « reaction time' of two of the kind of men usually
engaged in such contests. The answer, therefore, is that,
other things being equal, relatively greater intelligence
should give its possessor the victory, but only on the con-
dition that the intelligence is superior, but not high, for it
does not require high intelligence to conduct a pugilistic
contest; while, on the other hand, inasmuch as the intelli-
gence requisite for the conduct of a pugilistic contest is at best
low, if one of the combatants, otherwise apparently equal, be
an intellectual man, that is, has intelligence far beyond
the purpose, and the other has nothing but intelligence
sufficient, the former would be handicapped by his lesser
relative automatic excellence, lost perforce of his intellectu-
ality. His intellectuality having been gained at the expense
of his automatic capacity, he would be defeated by the man
whose lower, but sufficient, intelligence had subtracted less
from his primitive constitution. The law of compensation
is binding, and declares that growth in one direction of
correlated structure and function involves diminution in
another, and here we have a case of distinctly correlated
structure and function. In a word, the automatic superior-
ity of the less intellectual man being greater as such than
that of the other, and his intelligence quite equal to the pur-
pose of pugilism, he would win in a pugilistic contest. If it
were otherwise, then the theory here brought forward, as
supported by observation, and by experiment remaining to be
finally presented, would fall to the ground.

REACTION TIME WITH REFERENCE TO RACE. 481

Pride of race obscures the view of the white with refer-
ence to the relative automatic quickness of the negro. That
the negro is, in the truest sense, a race inferior to that of the
white can be proved by many facts, and among these by the
quickness of his automatic movements as compared with
those of the white. Many men, however, resent any claim
for him of superiority, even in the low sphere of automatic
movements, notwithstanding that there are several negroes
and mulattoes at the present day in the ring whose excellence
is scarcely approached, some of whom have often cheerfully
encountered opponents of much greater size and weight
for the privilege of being able to prove their skill. When
additionally it is considered that the negro has in pugilism
the advantage over the white in length of arm and thickness
of skull, it ought easily to be seen that, with equal oppor-
tunity, were prejudice not so strongly against him, he would
be regarded as the boxer par excellence of the world. It
would be vain to say that Corbett is as quick as, or quicker
than, any negro boxer. He may be quicker than any pres-
ent negro boxer, but even that is doubtful. It is, however,
contrary to all scientific practice to generalize from the case
of a single or even of a few individuals by way of establish-
ing a law. It is relative race characteristics of which there
is now question, as previously there has been question of
the relation between different individuals of the same race.
Any one who will dispassionately observe any group of sky-
larking whites, and compare them with a group of negroes
under the same circumstances, would be forced to admit that
the latter are quicker in their movements ; that the negro is,
in brief, more of an automaton than the white man is.
When bluff John L. Sullivan declared of the colored boxer,
Jackson, that he would not fight him because of his race, he
probably builded better than he knew when using the word
superiority in the sense not related at all to a pugilistic con-
test.

Having, from observation, for a long while believed the
fact to be as here stated, with reference to the relative auto-
matic excellence of individuals of lower races as compared
with those of higher ones, and having additionally ascribed

482

R. MEADE BACHE.

the fact, if it be a fact, to the cause mentioned, I finally
determined to submit the matter to the test of experiment.
With magneto-electric apparatus, now so common and easily
adapted to various investigations of the sort, Professor Light-
ner Witmer, of the University of Pennsylvania, has at my
suggestion made a number of experiments for determining the
reaction time of Whites, Indians, and Africans, with the re-
suits as given below. The reaction time of women, as settled
by the same indisputable method, was long since determined
as less than that of men, and this result, it will be observed,
is in strict accordance with the fact that the brain develop-
ment of men, as compared with that of women, is greater,,
even when taking into account the relatively greater weight
of normal individuals of the male sex as compared with that
of normal individuals of the opposite one.

Although I do not, in contradiction of my own statement^
mean to imply from the few experiments here presented, that
they should be regarded as conclusive of the views here ex-
pressed, yet I present them for what they are numerically
worth, with the intention to increase their number, and in the
hope that, from the fact of their presentation, other persons
will be led to follow the same line of investigation.

CAUCASIAN RACE.

Different
Persons.

u

Auditory.

Visual.

Electric Shock.

Mean of 10
Observations.

Mean
Variation.

Mean of 10
Observations.

Mean
Variation.

Mean of 10
Observations.

Mean
Variation.

i

2

3
4
5
6

8
9

IO

22

24
16
14
15

18
19
29

135
130
141
132
182
147
139
170
123
234
119

HI

7.0
7.0
13-0
8.0

20.0

19.0

12.0

15.0

6.0
17.0
7-8

I2.I

152
140
174
159
214
164
155
191
164

201

1x8

i45

10.0

8.0

10.0
10. 0

6.0

II. 0
22.0
I2.O
9.0
I2.O
3-0
3-9

141
128
187
138
142
119
95
150

121
229
103

133

4.0

II. O

9.0
3-0
14.0
13.0

II. 0

27.0

7'°*
15.0*

6.7
6.8

ii

12

24

15

Final Means,

IQ

146.92

12.0

164.75

9-7

136.33

10.6

1 In all the tables the figures represent thousandths sec. Compare times in this line by all three tests.
They are abnormally «low.

REACTION TIME WITH REFERENCE TO RACE.
INDIAN RACE.

483

Auditory.

Visual.

Electric Shock.

Different
Persons.

Mean of 10

1

Mean of 10

8

cl

Mean of 10

1

d

Observations.

§'§

Observations.

Observations.

§'S

<

*

^

s>

i ....

18

165

5.7

168

8-5

152

3-5

2 ....

21

H5

5.5

121

3-9

IOO

3-4

3 ....

14

128

5.4

148

6.2

118

3.5

4 ....

23

144

6.1

127

3.1

122

3.6

5 ....

14

70

6.2

119

4.8

94

5-3*

6. . . .

16

104

II. O

139

9.9

121

5-4

7 ....

16

109

IO.I

151

6.3

123

2.4

8 ....

17

107

10.6

120

6.2

90

3.9

9. ...

17

120

13-0

141

6.9

1 2O

8.2

10 . . . .

18

117

12.4

141

7.7

no

5-8

ii ....

19

IOO

5-3

118

3-7

114

4.6

Final Means,

I7«

116.27

7-7

135.73

6.1

114-55

4.4

*Pure blood Indian. Abnormally quick.

AFRICAN RACE.

Auditory.

Visual.

Electric Shock.

Different

.

fl.

j

Persons.

Mean of 10

t3

Mean of 10

3

Mean of 10

13

&

Observations.

I|

Observations.

«'C

Observations.

I|

<

%

^

S

i ....

16

114

7.2

157

8.4

107

10.3

2 ....

19

10.4

148

14.2

108

5-4

3 ....

127

7.7

131

4.6

IOO

3-6

4 ....

20

125

5-7

138

6.9

1 20

6.0

5 ....

19

164

24.7

173

7.0

137

13.9

6 ....

22

164

13.4

187

10.7

178

8.7

7 ....

26

121

13.8

118

ii. 8

103

5-0

8 ....

34

148

4.0

159

5-9

141

7-7

9 ....

109

4.8

165

II. 2

118

6.5

10 ....

16

1 2O

6.0

162

8.0

112

5.0

ii ....

25

126

5-0

144

7.0

128

8.0

Final Means

23

130.00

9-3

152.91

8.7

122.91

7.3

484 K. MEADE BACHE.

The first thing that strikes one, upon examination of the
tables, is the relative slowness of the Whites, as compared
with the Indians and Africans. This is in accordance with
the theory. But what is not in accordance with it, is that
the reaction time of the Indians is shown by the tables to be
less than that of the Africans, and the African is not so high
in race as is the American Indian. It is possible, however,
that the eventual explanation of this, when enough observa-
tions shall have been secured to demonstrate a law, will be
that the Indian belongs to a race which for centuries culti-
vated quickness of movement as a necessity of his existence.
Besides, the so-called Africans on the list have a larger inter-
mixture of white blood in their veins than have the Indians
on the corresponding list. It would seem, however, that the
largest factor, as a disturbing element, is derived from the
circumstance that the African, of the class here referred to,
of whatever infusion of white blood in his veins, inherits
physiological effects from generations of slavery. It must
be, if we can ascribe to the Indian, through the influence of
heredity, an extraordinary low reaction time, that we should
admit, through heredity, the effect of converse conditions to
which the African has been subjected. Whoever has seen
slaves hoeing, in their listless fashion, in a cotton-field, or en-
gaged in other forms of labor, must feel well assured that the
mental attitude thereby betrayed could not fail in the course
of generations to modify physical function. In sum, the con-
clusion must be, so far as the tables may elucidate the sub-
ject, that the African is quicker than the White, despite his
hereditary history, and the Indian is quicker than both, per-
force of his hereditary history.

I wish to call attention to a strange detail, to the case of
No. 5, on the list of Indians. That case happened to be one
of a full-blooded Indian, and as is seen, his reaction time is
marvellously low. If 70 had appeared alone as the result
of the auditory test, it would be justifiable to discard the
observation, but the auditory, visual, and tactile tests all
correspond, in due relation to each other, and therefore it is
impossible to regard this as any other than an exceptional
case of quickness even amongst Indians. It is interesting to

REACTION TIME WITH REFERENCE TO RACE. 485

contrast with this the case of No. 10, amongst the Whites,
with reaction time about three times slower than the reaction
time of the Indian No. 5. Here again we perceive, as in the
case of Indian No. 5, that the times, as determined by the
auditory, visual, and tactile tests correspond perfectly, and that
we must regard this as a case of abnormal slowness of reaction
time even among Whites.

In the list of Whites there are twelve individuals, and in
the list of Indians, eleven, but only ten in the list of Africans.
But, then, it must be considered, that in each of the first two
lists mentioned is included an abnormal Case, — one of slow-
ness and one of quickness. It would take more than one or
two additional cases to produce an entirely satisfactory mean.
To obtain perfectly satisfactory final means it will be neces-
sary, of course, to make many more observations, and these
I hope eventually to secure.

The views which I have here expressed I had entertained,
from observation, for very many years, long before I suspect-
ed the scientific bearing which they have. I never found
any one, however, to whom I communicated them who seemed
to recognize their probable truth, and it was at the beginning,
and for a long period afterwards, impossible to prove the
correctness of my position until the creation of electrical phys-
iological apparatus enabled any one to put to a crucial test any
such theory as is here presented. When at last the apparatus
was invented, and the convenience came to me in the facility
afforded by Dr. Witmer, I availed myself of the opportunity.
The article which I here present was written several months
ago, while the experiments at the University were proceed-
ing. I had intended to publish it at once, and let the experi-
ments follow, but upon reflection, I concluded to postpone
its publication until it was in my power to give something
that would at least point in the direction of' the truth of my
hypothesis, for otherwise, it might be received with entire
incredulity. Now that I am able to present matter, which
certainly does point, if it does no more than point, in the
direction indicated, I do not hesitate any longer to publish
what I have held back.

486 R. MEADE BACHE.

It only remains to add, for the benefit of the general
reader, that the record, as represented in the tables, is made
in thousandths of a second, as registered by the electro-
magnetic physiological apparatus. In the auditory test, the
subject, upon hearing the prescribed short sound, releases a
telegraphic key upon which his finger is resting. The differ-
ence of time between the sound as it takes place and the
release of the key is recorded by the apparatus. In the
risual test, a long pendulum is suspended away from the per-
pendicular in a room adjoining that in which the subject sits.
The subject releases the telegraphic key at the moment when
he sees a flash of light given by the pendulum-bob passing a
small opening in the room where he is placed. The difference
of time between the actual passage of the bob and the time
when the telegraphic key is released is recorded by the appa-
ratus. In the tactile test, a slight electric shock is given to
the wrist of the subject. The difference of time between the
shock and the removal of the hand from the telegraphic key is
recorded by the apparatus.

DISCUSSION.

PAIN NERVES.

In the July number of this REVIEW appeared an article entitled
'The Psychology of Pain,' by Professor Strong, the same having
been read by him at the late meeting of the American Psychological
Association at Princeton. The paper presents two main conclusions,
with one of which I am in such hearty accord that I may the more
freely express a small doubt about the other. This other is, in
Professor Strong's words, "that the evidence seems on the whole to
indicate that pain impulses are exaggerations of tactile, heat and cold
impulses, and are conducted inward by the same fibres."

Presuming that Professor Strong presents in his paper the
strongest evidence he knows of for his opinion, it would appear that
he rests it chiefly on the cases of locomotor ataxia mentioned by
him on pp. 336 and 337. The point he there brings out is, the pres-
ence of hyperalgesia to temperature within the same areas which are
analgesic to touch.

Professor Strong deduces from this that "temperature pains are
more closely bound up with normal sensations of temperature than
would be the case if pain impulses were conducted by a special set
of fibres." It is against the legitimacy of this deduction that I beg
leave to raise a question.

These cases of locomotor ataxia, as do others, certainly show the
seat of the disease to be puzzlingly specific. Apparently, in the
same section of the cord, the touch fibres are left intact, while the
temperature fibres from the same cutaneous area are affected. The
reverse also frequently happens. Or again, in some cases, even
touch and cold are left, with the loss alone of heat. But since, be-
yond doubt, the disease is thus mysteriously specific, why does
Professor Strong refuse to conceive that it may likewise extend to
the affection of specific nerves of pain ? Granted that ataxia some-
times affects all the cutaneous impulses simultaneously, should one
therefore conclude that all of them are carried in one fibre ? Or
with just heat and cold affected, does that necessitate their im-
pulses running, in the same fibre? If not why are we to conclude,

487

488 DISCUSSION.

on precisely similar evidence alone, that heat and heat-pains must
be carried in the same fibres ? It would seem to me that only those
cases would be in evidence for or against the separateness of pain
and other fibres, which showed pain surviving with loss of corres-
ponding other sensations. And since Professor Strong, from the
reports he quotes from Dr. Mitchell and others, appears to be abun-
dantly aware of this not uncommon occurrence, one is a little per-
plexed at his summary rejection of separate pain nerves.

Going further, we find plausible reasons why touch, cold and
heat fibres should respectively be bound up each with its own sepa-
rate pain fibres — granting that these exist. The matter of end-organs
suggests this. Though we know little about them, it is fair to suppose
that the same outer impulses demand similar end-organs for the cor-
respondent pain nerves, as for the nerves of the ordinary sense ; and
that different end-organs are demanded for different sorts of pain
stimuli. Under this view we should expect the heat and the heat-
pain fibres to have similar, if not indeed identical end-organs. And
if so we should not be surprised to find these fibres more closely
bound together in the cord than are those of touch and heat, which,
probably, have very different end-organs seated in different dermal
layers.

In view of the overwhelming evidence, both normal and patho-
logic, of pain from all sorts of stimuli, unaccompanied by other sen-
sations— from temperature as well as from other — we might leave
here the theory of separate pain-nerves to stand on its own merit,
did not one other point in Professor Strong's unique exposition of
his subject call for comment. While rejecting the old 'quale theory,'
he still clings to the notion that "pain impulses are exaggerated
tactile, heat and cold impulses, and are carried inward by the same
fibres." Of course he does not now mean, as did the old traditional
pain-pleasure theorists, that heat, for example, has one ordinary
form of impulse, and heat-pain another exaggerated form all to
itself. For since, unmistakably, we experience heat and heat-pains
simultaneously, such a notion would leave us conjecturing how two
forms of impulse, a weak and a strong one, should be induced by
the same stimulus and carried in the same fibres at one and the
same instant. What Professor Strong undoubtedly means is that
the exaggerated impulses are as much tactile, heat and cold impulses
as they are pain impulses ; and that when we do experience pain
both it and its accompanying sensation rises from the same impulse,
only that we do not have pain unless this impulse is of the exaggerated
form. To explain, under such a conception, how the two sorts of

PAIN NERVES. 489

•

sensation should result from precisely the same exaggerated impulse,
yet be two separate sensations, Professor Strong avowedly falls back
upon Wundt's 'shunt' theory, — which is plainly the only one in
the field at all reconcilable with his peculiar views. But since
Professor Strong himself suggests certain objections against
Wundt's theory, and mentions no objections whatever against the
theory of separate pain-nerves except, as may be inferred, that they
have never been visibly demonstrated, we are at some loss to under-
stand his unqualified acceptance of the former in face of many
obstacles, and his as unqualified rejection of the latter in face of no
obstacles.

The objections to Wundt's theory may be summarized as follows:
First, the numerous cases, normal and pathologic, of pain without
accompanying sensations of touch, heat or cold. Next its demand
for a much more complicated and duplex arrangement of our sensory
nervous systems — cranial as well as cord — than present anatomy
gives any suggestion of. And finally the objection that it demands
hypothetical complications for which there is no need whatever — all
the phenomena being much more reasonably explained by the very
simple theory of pain-nerves.

These are formidable objections to the only theory that is recon-
cilable with Professor Strong's summary of present evidence. On
the other hand, the sole evidence, as we have said, which he brings
against pain-nerves, is the fact, apparently, of their not having been
objectively demonstrated. But without pressing Professor Strong
to explain in what respect Wundt's 'shunt routes' have been moreob-
jectively demonstrated than pain-nerves, I will ask what sort of de-
monstration of pain-nerves he can ever reasonably expect, even grant-
ing them actual existence ? Suppose he actually saw two fibres end-
ing in a touch corpuscle — one a fibre of pain and the other of touch —
would he expect them to look different ? And since, according to
his own view, they are stimulated by the same cause, and, as I have
suggested, very likely by the same end-organ, is it likely that he
would be able to distinguish the two by direct normal experi-
mentation ?

In so far as I can see, therefore, the best possible evidence we
can well hope for with reference to pain-nerves is precisely that
which we now have. Namely, the frequent occurrence, normally
and pathologically, both of pain without other sensations, and of
other sensations without pain; and above all, the entire harmony of
the doctrine with the remaining facts of neurology, both existent
and genetic. As against this, the unceasing struggle of modern

490 DISCUSSION".

psychologists to patch up the old 'combination theory* in the face
of overwhelming difficulties, and with nothing whatever to recom-
mend it save the * hoary respectability of tradition ' is surely a re-
markable exhibition of the vitality of custom. By way of rousing
Psychology from this slavishness, I am inclined to endorse the em-
phatic words of Professor James; namely, that we have in the tra-
ditional pain-pleasure theory ' ' one of the most artificial and scholastic
af the untruths which disfigure our science "^ A great step is gained,
however, by Professor Strong rejecting one-half of this monstrosity.
So bisected, the other half is likely to die very decently.

HERBERT NICHOLS.

PROFESSOR WATSON ON REALITY AND TIME.

In a recent interesting article, Professor Watson aims to clear up
the relation of time to the absolute.2 He devotes most of his space
to preliminary considerations in psychology and to the examination
of Bradley's conception of reality and of McTaggart's recent expos-
ition of Hegel's doctrines of the absolute and of time. Professor
Watson's own view of the time-process in its relation to the absolute
is stated only as it is implicated in these criticisms — the positive
treatment being reserved for a later article. The conclusion which
he thus announces is in these words: "An Absolute which manifests
itself in the time-process, and yet is self-complete." This view,
however, must not be considered as the traditional ' reality-behind-
appearance-view ' of the transcendentalists, as Professor Watson is
at pains to say: it is much nearer, as the present writer understands
it from the partial statements of Mr. Watson, to the later view of
Lotze contained in the Metaphysic (as contrasted with the Lotze of
the Dictaten). This may be made plainer by further quotations.
Professor Watson says: "If the Absolute is self-complete apart
from the time-process, it cannot be manifested in that process: if it
is manifested in the time-process, whether it is self-complete or not,
at least it cannot be self-complete apart from the time-process, but
the time-process is essential to its self-completeness." "We reject
as self-contradictory the conception of the Absolute as self-complete
apart from the time-process." Lotze's view, with all its ins and
outs, is well presented by Falckenberg in his recent articles: and the
pondering of his views, especially the distinction whereby he finds

1 PSY. REV., Sept. 1894, p. 525, note.

* Tte Absolute and the T.im»*groeess. Rhtios. Revivta, Juljrj 1895, pjx 353 fit;.

PROFESSOR WATSON ON REALITY AND TIME. 49!

succession necessary to an Absolute which is changing reality, while
duration can not be so considered, leads us to see that his problem
is very similar to that which Professor Watson is taking up, when he
goes on to say "we are immediately confronted by the difficulty that
a world that is in process does not seem to be self-complete." It
may not be fair to anticipate that Professor Watson's solution will
finally be similar to Caird's: and it is difficult to see how he can
finally get an Absolute which will be free from the charge of being
'static.' But there are indications in this article that Professor
Watson, who has the just reputation of being one of the very ablest
of the 'Intellectual Idealists,' is going to work that kind of thinking
free from some of the weaknesses with which it has been beset in
the eyes of those who are unable to find in the dynamic categories
simply the 'telling-off' by us finites of a series of intellectual terms.
What I mean by indications are these: Professor Watson in this
article seems to recognize the need of some kind of an ontological
construction of evolution — although there are indications, too, that
he may fall back on the resource to be found in the subjectivism
of the category of evolution (pp. 367^. Farther, Professor Watson
shows a certain unexpected affiliation for Lotze, again, in essentially
agreeing that the question of metaphysics is 'what reality is: not
how it is made.' He says: " If it is asked why the Absolute reveals
itself gradually in the finite, I should answer that the question is
absurd: we can not go behind reality in order to explain why it is
what it is: we can only state what its nature, as known to us, in-
volves." Does not this seem to 'indicate' that there may be some
further agreement toward a dynamic view of reality, in spite of Pro-
fessor Watson's contention that reality must be self-complete in the
sense that it is intellectually constructible ? Then there is a third
' indication.' It is found in the good piece of psychology which Mr.
Watson gives us in this article in treating of conception and judg-
ment. This psychological digression is not new in its teachings: it
is a series of views made very clear by the newer logicians. I my-
self developed the same views in the first edition of my Senses and
Intellect in 1889. But the use which Professor Watson makes of the
'organization view,' as I may call it, of conception and judgment, is
what I find interesting. I shall speak of his point against Bradley
further along: here it is enough to point out that Mr. Watson finds
reality a function of progressive mental organization — thus denying
the very possibility of a construction of reality apart from this
organization itself.

492 DISCUSSION.

How then can the inference be avoided that the absolute arises
as real by mental construction also ? But we have no intellectual
organization of which the untemporal, the logically self-complete,
the undynamic, is a function. Professor Watson, it is true, avoids
this issue, and contents himself with the old antithesis of the intel-
lectualists — "The consciousness of the finite presupposes the con-
sciousness of the infinite" (p. 368), and "we are compelled to regard
all finite or dependent being as presupposing a self-determining prin-
ciple " (p. 368). Why are we? I for one, am not. To be sure, if
we make a logical antithesis with a supposititious finite, defined as de-
pendent, at one pole, we must go on to put a supposititious infinite
at the other pole: but it is going back to scholastic logic to say that
either must then have reality, or gets it by this dialectic of terms.
As a matter of fact, when I ask my consciousness for the men-
tal organization which issues in the conception 'infinite', it is not
there — and in my private view, neither is it there for the logical term
finite; but that is by the way. If this be true, that there is no men-
tal construction of any such object as the infinite or the absolute,
how, on Mr. Watson's true psychology, can there be a function of it
called its reality ? Or is this the exception in the doctrine of reality
which proves the rule ?

In his preliminary determination of the Absolute, in the course
of which the examination of Bradley occurs, Professor Watson makes
good use of the ' organization view ' of reality, as I have termed it
for brevity sake. The aim of his criticism is to show 'that reality
in its completeness must be a thinkable reality.' "If it is meant
that there is in reality something which cannot be made the object
of thought, because it is unthinkable, I do not see what kind of
reality this can be " (or by an impertinent paraphrase, I can not
think it!)

The argument is forcible, and but for certain criticisms of limi-
tation, in my opinion valid. It runs thus: If reality is, as a true
psychology teaches, nothing apart from the mental construction or
content itself which is said to be real, then there can be no room
for Bradley's contention that the knowing or judging process always
vitiates reality, inasmuch as it issues in a series of partial predic-
ations, none of which adequately expresses reality, and which are in
the main contradictory among themselves. This is, it will be re-
membered, the road which Bradley takes to show that all knowledge
is appearance or pure Schein. Now, says Watson, such a reality
apart from the organized content of knowledge is quite supposititious:
the very meaning of reality is psychologically just this mental organ-

PROFESSOR WA TSON ON REALITY AND TIME. 493

ization, at the different stages of it secured by progressive concep-
tion and judgment. So Bradley's distinction between that which
would be real if we could get hold of it, and that which is not real
because we have got hold of it, is throughout a false distinction.
This criticism is valid, I think, as against Bradley's impeachment of
judgment; but not valid as used by Professor Watson in his further
positive contention that if this be so then reality must be capable of
being thought, in whatever instance it be considered, and so in the
instance of the absolute. True as far as it goes, this view of reality
is yet inadequate psychologically, and proves in the sequel not only
to leave other views open, but to allow a return to the essence of
Bradley's contention. This^I may take a little space to show.

A reading of the recent new-school Logics, — Sigwart, Bosanquet,
Bradley, and above all the disciples of Brentano, — shows us that
there is a partial agreement in regard to the predicate * existence.'
This agreement may be brought out in the light of the foregoing by
saying that Professor Watson converts a proposition which is (i),
not universally true and is (2), inconvertible. He says, in effect, all
mental constructions give us at once and ipso facto what we mean by
reality, hence all reality must be found in such possible mental con-
structions.

Taking the first member of the sentence first — it is not true as a
universal. The Logics say differently ; and this is just the value of
the partial agreement they are effecting, as against the older inter-
minable disputes as to whether existence added anything, when
thought in connection with an object, to the mere thought of the
object. The Logics say in answer to this question : No; the thought
of existence adds nothing to the object as merely thought. And this
is the valuable contention which Professor Watson enforces against
Bradley. But the Logics then go on to say more: The thought of
existence is a different psychological mode, nevertheless, and finds
itself quite a different psychosis. The thought of a thing as existing
has the mode, or is the psychosis, which we call belief. And whatever
it is that constitutes this 'mode' different from that of the mere
thought-content itself, it is a real difference which psychology
must recognize. It is not all thought-constructions which carry the
reality predicate. It is only some of them. Sigwart would say only
those which are (necessarily) judged by us: Bosanquet seems to wish
to say only those which carry some kind of necessity other than the
necessity with which sensations break in upon us. But whatever the
lines of distinction be, they must be lines drawn by something else
than thought; since the content remains the same — to be believed

494 DISCUSSION.

to be real or not — and existence is not a thought-predicate. The
distinctions are really, in my opinion, distinctions of attitude, motived
largely by differences of feeling.

Furthermore — to take up the second point — even if it were true
that all mental constructions carried reality with them, yet such a
proposition could not be converted. There is yet a simpler form of
consciousness, a mode of dealing with content, which does not in-
volve existence as a predicate, but which nevertheless suffices for
our prevailing activities in the presence of realities. 'Reality-feel-
ing,' as I have called it, precedes belief; and belief — the assertion of
the reality predicate — gives a return of the 'reality-feeling' again
after a transition period of doubt, hesitation, suspension of
judgment. Without taking space for going into points made earlier i
— for the added reason, also, that they may be individual to myself
— I may be content to put the fact in evidence that it is only a
part of the realities which we get that are thought-constructions:
most of them are after all felt. For example, does not ethical appre-
ciation always run ahead of scientific description ?

If these points be true, how can we say that the ultimate must,
in virtue of psychological deliverances, be capable of being exhausted
in terms of thought?

It would seem to be a competent statement, if we should modify
the sentence, 'reality in its completeness must be a thinkable re-
ality,' of Professor Watson; and say: reality in its completeness can
not be merely a thinkable reality; even though it be capable of being
thought, it must have in it the quality of moving the possible thinker
in the ways we call belief, ethical appreciation, &c. ; and farther, it
may be so simple a thing, to the consciousness in which we are sup-
posing the appeal to do the thinking about it to be made, that it can
not be thought at all, but rests in its own limpid immediacy. This
would seem to be the conclusion from the appeal to psychology, if
Professor Watson insists on making it: and such a simple 'given'
would seem in a measure to justify Mr. Bradley's insight in calling it
'that' as opposed to the 'what.' J. MARK BALDWIN.

PRINCETON.

JSee my Feeling and Will, Chap. VII., and the article Feeling, Belief and
Judgment, in Mind, July, 1892.

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE.
GENERAL.

An Essay Concerning Human Understanding. JOHN LOCKE. Collated
and annotated with prolegomena, &c., by A. C. FRASER. Ox-
ford, Clarendon Press: New York, Macmillans. 1894. Vol.1.
Pp. CXL-f 535. Vol. II, pp. 421. Price $8.

In this book Professor Fraser has done the philosophical world a
service which none of those interested will be slow to recognize. We
now have for the first time a convenient text of one of the greatest
of English classics: introduced by one who is so well versed in
modern tendencies of thought as to be capable of emphasizing the
salient ideas of the text: and published in a form which itself makes
a commentary on the dignity and common-sense of John Locke,
'the plain man of plain ideas.' The introduction by Professor
Fraser covers CXL pages, 'biographical, critical, and historical.'
The expository and critical part seems to the present writer to have
all the merit of the calm and judicious spirit, coupled with directness
of style, which characterizes Professor Fraser's 'Berkeley,' and
which serves to set Locke forth in a peculiarly favorable light. It
is so different from the form of * Introduction ' begun in England by
Green and carried forward by the others — Caird, Jones, &c., — which
begins by obscuring what seems plain, and then trying to teach a
new form of obscurity by 'showing up' the other. It may be true,
as one sometimes hears, that the best exposition always comes from
the man whose own opinions are not 'urgent for the utterance,' and
it may be that it is for this reason that Mr. Fraser sticks true to his
text: but in that case we must still be glad that the right man took
up the work and hope that he may long be spared to do more of it.

The main merit to which I refer is seen in the many points on
which Locke was really innocent of an opinion of his own or ignorant
further that he was raising a question. Professor Fraser is true to
Locke in letting him stand there in all his unfinished and fragmentary
conceptions. Note, for example, the remarks on Locke's doctrine
of real existence as resting on 'irresistible assurance' (LXXXIIIfif),
and the general remarks on Locke's views of 'the idea of self,' &c.

495

496 GENERAL.

(LXXXV). "The treatment of the subject," says the commentator,
•"in the Essay, shows his disposition to avoid speculative questions,
and the ultimate mysteries, and to remain contented with the point
of view that satisfies ordinary minds." Yet on this very question,
when we come to look at Locke exactly as he was, we see that it is
very difficult to find in the new logical treatises which are attempting
to set a reality 'necessarily* given in every act of judgment, very
much essential progress on the position of the 'plain man* of the
seventeenth century. So in other connections, the value of the expo-
sition is as much in setting the author's limits as in expounding his
positive theories: for it is just what seem to be his limitations which
may be most instructive to the historical student. Has not Locke
himself exhorted us in commending Anthony Collins ? — "You have a
comprehensive knowledge of it, and do not stick in the incidents,
which I find many people do."

There is one point of view taken by Professor Fraser in a more
positive way, however, which is in line with one side of the discus-
sions relative to Locke's place in the historical movement of later
philosophy: the view that Locke's refutation of Malebranche is in
turn a refutation of the modern attempt to father a Lockian pater-
nity upon the form of idealism which arose upon the basis of the
* theory of ideas' (XL VIII). "All this sheds light," says Mr. Fraser,
"on many passages in the Essay in its recognition of the ultimate
incomprehensibility by us of our own finite and transitory percep-
tions, and of God's infinite knowledge; so that human philosophy
can offer no theory of either, much less explain the one by means of
the other."

The annotations throughout the two volumes, in the shape of
foot-notes, show the same moderation and caution: and for that
reason they do not contain much of value to the modern psycholo-
gist apart from the elucidation of Locke. Possibly the psychologist
who gives them the more detailed examination will be more inclined
than the present writer to say that they reflect inadequate informa-
tion in respect to recent phases of psychological thought.

J. M. B.

Friedrich Edward Heneke. The Man and His Philosophy. An Intro-
ductory Study. F. B. BRANDT. New York, Macmillan & Co.,
1895. Pp. 167.

This is the fourth number of the Columbia College Contributions
to Philosophy, Psychology, and Education. It is precisely what its
title promises, an introductory study of Beneke and his philosophy,

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 497

concise, well arranged, and clear, that is, as clear as any exposition
of Beneke's philosophy can be. As there is no other monograph in
English on Beneke, and as he represents one distinct phase of the
many sided development of the Kantian philosophy, the appearance
of this book is timely. Indeed, Dr. Brandt contends that it is in
Beneke alone that the true development of German philosophy after
Kant is found.

Beneke died in 1854 at the age of 56, having spent nearly all his
life as Professor at the University of Berlin, for the most part with-
out salary.

His significance is chiefly psychological. Metaphysics and peda-
gogy represent applied psychology and received considerable atten-
tion. Psychology is to be treated strictly as a natural science; it is
to depend wholly on experience and is to follow rigorously the
method of the objective sciences. But the experience is to be ' inner
experience,' that is, individual consciousness of our memories, im-
aginations, concepts, etc., as distinguished from 'outer experience,'
that is, perception of things. But psychology is by no means to be a
mere descriptive science of inner phenomena; in inner experience
there is revealed to us the thing-in-itself, the very essence of the
soul. To say that this is promising is mild, it is captivating. But
when we are told furthermore that this natural science of psychology
is free from materialism, that it escapes subjective idealism by giv-
ing us a knowledge of other human beings and bodies, that it estab-
lishes the immortality of the soul in the form of an immortal person-
ality, it would seem to those in search of a system of philosophy that
it would be foolish to look further. Such seekers, however, will be
a little disappointed with the outcome. Lured by Beneke's promises
of empiricism, we enter upon a long and minute psychological anal-
ysis, in which we are introduced to a whole company of elements,
powers, processes and existences, with strange names and stranger
faces, which put to blush the worst Herbartian 'jargon.' We are
told of 'traces,' those unconscious psychical existences which become
conscious memories, of 'movable elements,' which form the con-
stituent parts of consciousness, and of primary faculties (Un>ermogcu)
and in Beneke's system these are as fundamental and necessary as
Herbart's reals and his doctrine of self-conservation and arrest. The
soul he defines as a 'concrete psychical organism,' of which we have
absolute knowledge in and for itself.

The points of resemblance between Beneke and Herbart are
many. Beneke was not, as he said, very much influenced by Her-
bart, but they were both inspired by the same Zeitgeist.

498 GENERAL.

In his life Beneke was so unfortunate as to be in conflict with the
' court philosophy ' of Hegel, for which he had no great liking. It
is a suggestive commentary on Hegel and his times and the advance
that philosophy has made since then, that whereas the students of
those days, accustomed to the sky-wanderings of the master, turned
away from the lectures of Beneke with the remark, 'This is nothing
but sound common sense.' Students of our day turn away from him
for the opposite reason.

However, every student of the history of German thought of this-
century must read Beneke and Dr. Brandt's introduction will be
indispensable to English readers. The monograph has perhaps one
fault — not a bad one. The author being himself apparently a very
enthusiastic admirer of the system, exhibits occasionally a rather
alarming disposition to force it upon the reader, even if, in Plato's
phrase, he has to put it bodily into his soul.

UNIVERSITY OF IOWA. GEORGE T. W. PATRICK.

The Essentials of Logic : Being Ten Lectures on Judgment and Inference.
B. BOSANQUET. New York, Macmillan & Co., 1895. Pp. 167.
Price, $1.00.

To one who may be interested in the problems of modern logic,
this book will prove to be of very great value. It forms a most
satisfactory introduction to the general theory of logic. It contains
the substance in brief of Bosanquet's larger work. The discussions
of Bradley, Lotze, Sigwart and Venn can be far better understood
and appreciated, after receiving the illumination and suggestion of
these most interesting pages. The point of view of the modern
logic is essentially and primarily an epistemological one. How do
we acquire that knowledge of the external world which gives to us
the fundamental elements of thought with which logic is concerned ?
As answers to this question, Bosanquet discusses three different
positions. The first is that of common sense, which regards the
external world as independent of our consciousness for practical
purposes. Its activities and happenings proceed irrespective of any
apprehension by our minds. The second is that of common sense
theory, which in addition to the first mentioned position assumes,
concerning the nature of this world, that it is apart from conscious-
ness the same as it is for our consciousness. The third which he
calls the philosophical theory, regards the objective as independent
of our consciousness in the sense that it is what we are constrained
to think in order to make our consciousness consistent with itself.
This position is the one which Bosanquet himself holds. It seems

PS YCHO LOGICAL LITER A TURE. 499

to me to be substantially the same position as that advanced by Sig-
wart, who assumes as a fundamental logical postulate that the given
is necessary. In holding such a position one avoids the defects of
subjective idealism; here the real, outside the mind, being inaccess-
ible, falls away. In knowledge there is no passage from subjective
to objective, but only a development of the objective. Knowledge,
therefore, is the medium in which our world, as an inter-related whole,
exists for us. Knowledge is always given in the form of a judgment.
The theory of judgment becomes the basis of a theory of logic. The
main portion of Bosanquet's work is taken up with an elaboration of
the theory of judgment. He defines judgment as an affirmation,
pronouncing the interpretation of our perceptions to form one sys-
tem with the data of our perceptions. This interpretation, or en-
largement claims necessity, or universality. It is concerned with
reality in the sense that the real subject of every judgment is reality,
and our world therefore as existing for us in the medium of know-
ledge consists, for us, of a standing affirmation about reality. Bosan-
quet's insistence upon the intimate relation of knowledge to reality
in judgment, seems to us to be a most valuable and admirable
defence of the true theory of logic. It follows too from such a posi-
tion that the form of knowledge can not be considered wholly apart
from its matter. The two mutually influence and determine each
other. One of the essential functions of judgment is that of con-
struction, that is, of exhibiting a whole in its parts, an identity in its
differences, and in this it is both analytic and synthetic.

Bosanquet presents the types of judgment in an original manner
according to the analogy of the development in plants and animals.
The idea of a growth in the forms of judgment had already been
emphasized in his larger work, whose title contains this idea in the
words, 'Logic, or the Morphology of Knowledge.' This growth is
traced through the forms of the impersonal judgment, perceptive,
individual, and the abstract, including hypothetical and disjunctive.
Moreover Bosanquet considers judgment in its distinctive character
as a claim to truth. Here we must distinguish between an idea as a
psychical presentation, and as a reference to reality. The former
is strictly a particular, a psychical image; the latter is both less and
more than a psychical image. It contains less and stands for more. It
contains only what is central and essential in the detail of each men-
tal presentation, and therefore omits much; it has in consequence
an abstract and universal significance. Judgment therefore is the
reference of such a significant idea to a subject in reality by means
of an identity of content between them. As regards the relation of

500 GENERAL.

judgment to language, the most important features of Bosanquet's
treatment are the two following: — that the sentence must be regarded
as the unit, and that the copula is not so much a link between a
subject and predicate, but as the whole judgment considered exclu-
sively as a cohesion between parts of a complex idea. It is the
' grip ' with which the parts of a single complex whole cohere with
one another. This leads to a view of judgment radically different
from the two opposed theories which regard judgment respectively
as a comparison between two ideas, and as a comparison between
two things. Bosanquet's theory is that judgment is always the
analysis and synthesis of elements in some one thing or ideal con-
tent. He strictly maintains the unity of judgment, in which the
ultimate subject is always reality, and that it is possible always to
mass the whole judgment as a single predicate directly or indirectly
true of reality. Regarding the distinction between categorical and
abstract judgments, Bosanquet is clear and consistent. The cate-
gorical is really the perceptive judgment in which the bond with
reality is direct or explicit; in the abstract judgments, the affirmation
of reality is indirect. Underlying them is the implied categorical
judgment. The hypothetical judgment is based upon a supposition
which in turn must rest upon reality. In the disjunctive judgment,
there is a combination of categorical and hypothetical, in which
negation is itself rendered by the disjunction positively significant.
Bosanquet's treatment of negation forms an introduction to the gen-
eral theory of induction; it is necessary to understand the one in
order fully to appreciate the other. Negation contains positive sig-
nificance, always implicit, which is the basis upon which the negation
rests. We deny in consequence of our ability to affirm something
incompatible with that assertion which we deny. Bosanquet's
theory of inference grows out of his theory of knowledge. Inference
is possible because knowledge as the interpretation of our world
forms one self-consistent system. Inference in all cases therefore
presupposes a system, that is, a group of relations, or properties or
things so held together by a common nature that you can judge
from some of them what the others must be. In induction you com-
plete the system from the parts; and in deduction, the system being
known, suggests the parts and their relations. Induction, thus
based upon scientific system avoids the defects of induction by sim-
ple enumeration. Its method is by negative instances as already
mentioned in which your positive observation is ever confirmed by a
negative which has positive value, and which is itself the converse
by negation of the original positive observation. The impression

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 50 1

left by these lectures of Bosanquet is that logic is concerned with
living thought, and not barren forms; that its sphere is not the ideal,
but reality as the source and test of all truth; and that its results are
not artificial, but practical and abounding in rich material content.
PRINCETON UNIVERSITY. JOHN GRIER HIBBEN.

Einleitung in die Philosophic. O. KULPE. Leipzig, S. Hirzel, 1895,
Pp. 276. M. 4.

This Introduction may be described as a brief encyclopaedia of
philosophical doctrines. Prof. Kiilpe criticises such works as those
of Herbart and Paulsen on the ground that their writers were too
much limited by personal opinions as to what Philosophy should be
and therefore failed to do justice to many of the factors that go to
make up this discipline in its true historic and general sense. He
then tells us that it is his aim to give a broad view of all the ten-
dencies of philosophical thought, both past and present, together
with a critical estimate of their relative values. In order to make
the treatment as objective as possible each discussion is based upon
a historical summary including all the important phases of develop-
ment in the given direction down to the most recent times. These
summaries must, of course, be very much condensed and, though it
is not to be disputed that they have the advantage claimed of giving
a greater comprehensiveness to the work and a firmer foundation to
the conclusions, yet it must be seriously questioned whether readers
of an 'Introduction,' unfamiliar with the history of Philosophy, will
be able to follow intelligently these brief outlines. In this connec-
tion we may notice the short lists that are given of the chief works
on each subject. These will serve as valuable introductions to gen-
eral philosophical literature.

Another characteristic of the book is the denial of the possibility
of reaching a unitary system in Philosophy. History shows us that
widely divergent views exist as to the problems and methods prop-
erly belonging to this field of investigation. This disagreement can
be explained only by recognizing that the problems are really of a
most heterogeneous character and can not be included under a single
principle of classification, but must be arranged in distinct depart-
ments. We have accordingly to divide our subject into general
philosophical disciplines, including Metaphysics, Theory of Knowl-
edge, and Logic ; and special philosophical disciplines, including
Natural Philosophy, Psychology, Ethics, ^Esthetics, Philosophy of
Religion, and Philosophy of History. In order to gain a general
view of the whole we must have first, a statement of the problems

502 GENERAL.

arising in each of these departments, and second, some account of the
general tendencies of thought that have arisen in the effort to answer
these questions.

We take up then the problems of the philosophical disciplines.
In brief Prof. Klilpe's conclusions are as follows: Metaphysics has
the mission of developing a theory of the universe which shall recon-
•cile the practical demands of our moral and religious natures with
the theoretical demands of our scientific investigations. The theory
•of knowledge inquires into the nature of the content of knowledge,
•dealing with such questions as the validity and limits of knowledge,
the relation of subject and object, the division of knowledge into its
material and formal elements, and the nature of general concepts.
Logic, on the other hand, has to do with the forms of knowledge.
It is the philosophy of the methods of thought and reasoning.
Psychological logic and mathematical logic are not to be regarded as
independent forms. The first is a part of general psychology and
the second contributes no new facts but merely another form of
expression. Natural philosophy is the discipline which stands in
closest relation to the natural sciences. Its duty is the criticism of
the presuppositions and methods of these sciences as well as an ex-
amination of the several concepts and theories which result from
their investigations. Psychology in its earliest form was a science
of the vital principle. At a later, and by no means unproductive
stage, it was defined as the science of inner experience. The latest,
and, according to our author, the true definition of psychology
charges it with the investigation of experience in so far as this ex-
perience is conditioned by the subject, and since we know subjects
only in connection with living bodies we must be more explicit and
say in so far as this experience is conditioned by the living, embodied
subject. " The chief problem that we must assign to scientific ethics
as a special discipline is the collection and analysis of the prevailing
moral standards of the day." Esthetics can do no better than adopt
the definition of Kant as philosophy of the beautiful on the one hand,
and a philosophy of art on the other. Philosophy of religion is as
yet a complex of historical and psychological investigations of relig-
ious phenomena. Nevertheless, as a discipline in which the funda-
mental concepts of theology are subjected to criticism it may hope
for an independent development. Philosophy of history is the latest
of all other special disciplines and can hardly lay claim to any definite
program. It is evident that it will not have to do with the facts of
history, but rather with the underlying concepts and methods of its
study.

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 503

After the problems have been thus outlined we are in a position
to take up the solutions that have been offered from time to time in
the history of thought. These may be arranged in three groups
namely : — Tendencies of metaphysics, of theory of knowledge, and
ethics. These various directions of thought may be regarded as
independent though not always mutually exclusive. Metaphysical
tendencies may be divided into five classes. First, the number of
fundamental principles employed gives us a basis for division into
singularism and pluralism — this classification being prefered to one
in which monism and dualism appear for the reason that these terms
express qualitative rather than quantitative differences. Second,
the quality of the fundamental principles — whether spiritual or mate-
rial, causal or mechanical — gives us spiritualism, materialism, dual-
ism and monism on the one hand, teleological and mechanical theories
on the other. Third, the attitude towards the question of the nature
of God has given rise to pantheism, theism, deism, and atheism.
Fourth, a discussion of the freedom of the will has led to indeter-
minism and determinism. Finally, the psychological tendencies have
arisen out of disagreements as to the nature of the soul and the
character of psychical activity in the processes of knowing, resulting
on the one hand, in substantialism and actualism, on the other, in
intellectualism and voluntarism. Theories of knowledge divide on
the question of origin into rationalism, empiricism, and criticism ;
on the question of validity into dogmatism, skepticism, positivism
and criticism ; and finally on the question of objective reality into
idealism, realism and phenomenalism. Ethical tendencies may be
classed into intuitionalism and empiricism in regard to their answers
as to the origin of moral ideals; into emotional and rational. Ethics
on the ground of their description of the nature of the motives to
moral action ; into egoism and altruism in regard to the objects
affected, and into eudcemonism and utilitarianism in regard to the
object sought by moral action.

It will be impossible to follow the discussion into the details.
Enough has been said to show the compass and plan of the book. A
few of the author's personal views which appear in his criticisms may
be of interest. Dualism is defended as the doctrine that agrees
most satisfactorily with the special sciences as well as with the
demands of the theory of knowledge. The criticism of materialism
in this connection is particularly severe. The question of the nature
of the soul is left without any positive settlement. The substance
theory is vigorously defended against the attacks of modern actual-
ism and yet this discussion ends with the statement that we are not

$O4 GENERAL.

to regard this defence as a recognition of the validity of the sub-
stance theory, but rather as a proof that the impossibility of the ex-
istence of such a substance has not yet been demonstrated. It will
be interesting to learn how Prof. Kiilpe's dualism will develope in
this respect. Intellectualism and voluntarism are both rejected as
onesided and the position is emphasized that all the elementary forms
of psychical activity are to be regarded as on a par. On the question
of the freedom of the will the negative position of determinism is
defended.

The last chapter emphasizes the impossibility of a system in
philosophy and defines the problems that this discipline has to deal
with. These problems are three in number. First, the develop-
ment of a theory of the universe. Second, the criticism of the pre-
suppositions of the sciences as well as their resulting concepts and
theories. Finally, philosophy has had historically, and still has the
important duty of formulating new problems and methods which
shall give rise to new special disciplines. C. H. JUDD.

LEIPSIG.

^Esthetic Principles. H. R. MARSHALL. New York and London,
Macmillan & Co., 1895. Pp. X -f 201.

The substance of this volume was given last winter as a course
of lectures at Columbia College and subsequently prepared for pub-
lication. The author's aim is to present the outlines of his aesthetic
theory freed from the psychological detail which accompanied it in
his larger work on Pain-Pleasure and ^Esthetics. The result is a little
masterpiece of two hundred pages in which an unusually interesting
and stimulating content is presented in a form which possesses many
of the qualities of an English classic.

There are two parts to Mr. Marshall's discussion. In the first
four chapters under the dual standpoints of the observer and art-
producer, the author treats of the Field of ^Esthetics; Pleasure and
Pain, The Art-instinct and ^Esthetic Standards. In the last two
chapters under the caption of Algedonic ^Esthetics, the negative
and positive principles of aesthetics are developed. It is needless to
say that the topics are handled with great originality and power.
The same mastery of exposition, acuteness of criticism, keenness of
analysis, fineness of psychological and aesthetic discrimination and
sharpness of dialectical skill are conspicuous here as in the author's
larger work, while his rich scholarship, although kept in the back-
ground, displays its abundant fruitage on every page.

Mr. Marshall's aesthetics rests on his psychological theory of
Pleasure and Pain and it is here, I think, that the strength as well

PS YCHOLOG1CAL LITER A TURE.

as the weakness of his position is to be found. Professor James has
said in connection with the author's larger work, that he has been"
more successful than any preceding writer in subsuming the phenom-
ena of pleasure and pain under a single point of view. This is a
merit which would not be seriously affected were it to be success-
fully shown that the point of view is not quite exhaustive. To such
a criticism, I think, the theory is in fact, open. Pleasure and Pain-
are construed by the author as functions of the relation between the
nerve supply and the draught that is made on it by the special ac-
tivity with which it is connected, pleasure arising as the psychological
effect of a surplus of nervous energy over and above the normal sup-
ply, while pain is the result of an over draught. Valuable as this
may be as a proximate generalization, it seems to carry with it the
logical deduction that the normal consciousness is hedonically indif-
ferent: in other words, that pleasure and pain are derivative and not
original qualities of consciousness. I think, on the contrary, that
the weight of psychological authority will always favor the view that
consciousness is originally hedonic, a position which the author does-
not, in fact, distinguish from sensationalism with which it is not
identical. For it is possible to maintain that pleasure and pain are-
original quales of consciousness while rejecting the theory criticised
by Mr. Marshall; namely, that pleasure and pain are psychic ele-
ments from which all other mental phenomena are derived. Sensa-
tionalism is not the only alternative here. Besides, I fail to see
how Mr. Marshall's own theory can be grounded without recognizing^
the originality of the pleasure-pain quote. His formula seems tcr
explain, not the rise of pleasue and pain, but simply their variation,
while it tacitly assumes an original hedonic consciousness. If this;
assumption be admitted, then the last word has not been said about
pleasure and pain, whereas, if it be denied, the conclusion is ineivtable
that consciousness is not, in itself, pleasant or painful, a conclusion
which I think sound psychological analysis will disprove, for it seems
to me that introspection teaches that normal movements of con-
sciousness tend to be pleasant. Genetically I think there is a bal-
ance in favor of the position taken by Baldwin that pleasure and
pain arise in the first instance in connection with the first stimula-
tions of the environment. This follows necessarily on the view that
consciousness/*?/- jv? possesses the hedonic quality. Such a view does
not, however, supersede Marshall's, but rather subsumes it under a
more primary law, since if pleasure and pain are inseparable from
consciousness, the law of its variation in consciousness will have
its physical basis in the relation of nerve supply to the functional
demands.

506 GENERAL,

I find myself in accord with much that the author says about the
emotions. But it seems to me that he had not all the possibilities in
mind when he, as he in effect does, conceived Sensationalism and
his own dual theory to be the only alternatives on the hedonic basis.
A third alternative, to my mind more satisfactory than either,
arises when we connect the hedonic quality of consciousness with its
presentational elements and conceive the emotions to arise out of
the synthesis. This enables us to explain the characteristic objec-
tivity of the emotions as well as their complexity without breaking
the unity of the mental life by a confusing dualism. I am not here
criticising dualism per se, but the real dualities in this sphere are, I
think, the original distinction between pleasure and pain and also
that between pleasure-pain and the representational function of con-
sciousness.

Personally, I confess to some dissatisfaction with Mr. Marshall's
excellent treatment of the relation of aesthetics to pleasure and pain.
It seems to put pleasure-getting too much in the immediate fore-
ground. It is of course true that beauty gives immediate pleasure.
But it is not so obvious that the getting or giving of this pleasure is
to be taken as the aim of art or that it supplies its primary criterion.
Jt might seem to be obviously so from the observer's standpoint.
But it seems to me that the observer, if his conscious aim is to get
pleasure from the contemplation of works of art, misses the true
standpoint of art appreciation; whereas, if the point at issue is simply
the fact that he experiences an immediate pleasure from the con-
templation, it is open to us to seek the grounds of this pleasure,
which will be found, I think, in the fact that it satisfies in some way
the observer's ideal. This brings the observer's standpoint into line
with that of the producer which is concededly the realization of his
ideal. The immediate object of the artist thus stands as the ulti-
mate object of the observer. Now it is obvious that if the artist
consciously aims at pleasure rather than the ideal, he mistakes the
artist's standpoint for that of the moralist or social philosopher.
And when we consider the question of the ultimate reference of the
artist's ideal, I think, we will find it not to be pleasure getting or
giving, but some kind of realization. This leads me to think that
pleasure supplies only a secondary aim in aesthetics and that its
primary aim is to be sought in the ideal reference indicated above.

PRINCETON. A. T. ORMOND.

PS YCHOLOGICAL LITER A TURE. $O?

CHILD PSYCHOLOGY.

Evoluzione del Senso cromatico nella Infanzia. A. GARBINI. Estratto
dall' Archivio per 1'Anthropologia e 1'Etnologia vol. XXIV,
Fascicola i° e 2°, 1894. Florence, 1894. Pp. 58.

This is a piece of work done at the laboratory of infantile psycho-
physics at Verona. After giving some account of the investigations
of Vierordt, Uffelman, Preyer, Binet, and others, Dr. Garbini
definitely sets himself to answer the following questions: (a) Whether
the perception of light precedes that of colors, and when, approxi-
mately, each of these makes its appearance; (b) In what chronolog-
ical order the principal colors are first perceived; (c) What would be
the most logical method of cultivating the sense of sight.

About six hundred children were examined, and the results very
clearly set forth, with the aid of numerous valuable tables. Only a
brief outline can be given here:

One would naturally expect that the child's sensibility to light
would be developed earlier than any sensibility to differences of
color; since the latter requires the separate action of specific spectral
rays, while the former is due to an action common to all those rays.
And this Dr. Garbini finds to be the case. The new-born child ap-
parently feels the light — experiences from it a sort of photodermal
sensation which is general and not special in locality. Moreover,
the infant during the first five days is distinctly averse to strong
light falling upon his eyes; he is photophobic by reason of retinal
hyperaesthesia; hence Dr. Garbini names this period il periodo foto-
disferico. During the second period, (which extends from the $th
to the 3oth day), the child passes from the condition just described,
(/otofobo) to a state in which he finds diffused light agreeable, (be-
coming fotofilo), and also accomplishes his first simple perceptions
of the light and dark. This period, therefore, is named il periodo fotoes-
tesico. The third period extends from the 2nd to the i6th month,
and is called the visual period, to mark the very important advance
— made usually about the second month — from passive to active
sight. The infant now for the first time directs his gaze, without
turning his head, towards luminious objects not too far away,
(28-35 day), and later learns to follow with his eyes an object mov-
ing slowly from its place (yth week). The fourth period, which
begins with the i6th month, Dr. Garbini calls the chromatic period
(il periodo cromatico), because here the differentiation and percep-
tion of colors begins. He employed two methods side by side in
making his experiments: The first, (which he calls metodo mttto).

508 CHILD PSYCHOLOGY.

consists in having the child select, from a pile of colored skeins, one
to match the one that lies before him. This method, it will be
observed, differs from that employed by Binet in that it requires the
exercise of perception only, whereas Binet's method draws upon
memory as well. The second, (metodo verbale), consists simply in
getting the child to name the color of the skein presented to him.
The result of these observations is to place the principal colors, in
the chronological order of their first perception, as follows: Red,
Green, Yellow, Orange, Blue, Violet. Here, it will be noticed, yel-
low is third in the order of perception, whereas Preyer places it
first. Green, too, stands unexpectedly near the head of the list,
since both Preyer and Binet place it last but one in their tables. In
somewhat more detail the results are as follows: From the i6th to
the 2oth month the child begins to distinguish Red. From the 2oth
to the 24th month he learns to distinguish Red better, and to have
some confused knowledge of Green. In the 3rd year Yellow is per-
ceived with some uncertainty, and there begins some tentative per-
ception of Orange. In the 4th year the child distinguishes Red
quite readily, Green and Yellow not quite so well, and begins to
differentiate Orange, Blue and Violet, provided they are tolerably
fully saturated. In the 5th year he differentiates Red, Green and
Yellow quite well, and Orange and Blue with some difficulty, con-
founding the latter very often with Violet. One may notice also at
this time an advance in the child's ability to distinguish shades. In
the 6th year Red, Green and Yellow are perfectly distinguished;
Orange, Blue and Violet not so perfectly, but toleraby well; and
shades come to be very readily recognized, though considerable
difficulty is still encountered in distinguishing tones which lie next
each other in the spectral series, especially if their saturation is not
very marked. One must say, then, on the whole, that the chromat-
ic sense is still imperfect, even at the close of the period of infancy
(end of 6th year). Dr. Garbini finds 2 children in every 100 who
at that age cannot name any color; and he finds only 35 in every 100
who can name all the colors readily.

The order in which the child learns to name the perceived colors,
is, as might be expected, the same as the order in which the colors
themselves are learned; but this name-series, though parallel with
the perception-series, is not synchronous with it, but lags about a
year behind; *'. e., the child learns to name any given color correctly
about a year after he has learned to know the color itself. This is
explained by the consideration that the act of connecting a color
with its name is a higher and more complex mental act than that of

PS YCHOLOGICAL LITERA TURE. 509

merely perceiving the color. Sex seems to have but little influence
on the development of the color-sense. Boys he finds rather more
advanced about the fourth year, girls in the fifth and sixth years. It
is a somewhat remarkable circumstance that these investigations
revealed not a single case of color-blindness, though nearly six hun-
dred children from three to six years of age were examined. Those
who are familiar with the interesting researches of Jeffers, Meyer
and others on this point, will remember that these investigators
found as high as 4^ of the boys and from .6 to .24$ of the girls,
more or less color blind.

Dr. Garbini closes with a number of suggestions regarding the
training of the sense of sight by means of appropriate exercises in
chromatic and other visual discriminations; believing that such exer-
cises, if based upon, and carried out in conformity with the natural
order of development, might be of great service in accelerating the
acquirement of visual facility and control. If the present writer is
not mistaken, this very end is aimed at, and to some degree attained,
in our kindergartens.

Transactions of the Illinois Society for Child Study. Vol. I, No. 2.
Handbook for the use of Members and Round Tables ; includ-
ing a Plan of Organization and Syllabi for Work in Child Study.
The Werner Co., Chicago and New York. May, 1895.

Those who are interested in the study of children will find many
valuable suggestions in these Handbooks of the Illinois Society;
while for that large class whose lack of interest arises simply from
lack of information on the subject, one could scarcely recommend
anything better than these little pamphlets, with their definite, brief
syllabi and pointed questions. The present number contains the
constitution and by-laws of the Illinois Society, an address by Col.
Parker, setting forth its plan and purpose, directions for organizing
and for undertaking the work of child-study, some twenty-one
topical syllabi containing questions and suggestions for the guid-
ance of investigators, and a bibliography of something like two
hundred and fifty literary references on the subject.

Prof. Baldwin leads off with a syllabus on the study of the social
sense in children, or the observation of cases of special friendship or
'chumming.' Dr. Dresslar gives an account of a plan for the investi-
gation of the decline of habits, with a view to the eradication of evil
habits in the child. Dr. Lukens and Col. Parker give directions for
the study of child-language ; and President Hall publishes again his
syllabus on * Fears in Childhood and Youth.' Drs. Scripture and

5 I O ANTHROPOME TR Y.

Gilbert show how to apply scientific methods to the study of child-
hood ; and Dr. Bolton furnishes some valuable remarks on 'The
Prerequisites of the Scientific Observation of Children.' We should
free ourselves from our preconceived pedagogical and psychological
theories. The student of childhood should be an observer and not
a critic. Parents are apt to be poor observers because they ' have
too much stock' in the pupil ; teachers, because they have, as a rule,
too little. Tests of the senses of children are suggested by Mr.
O'Shea and Mr. Kinnaman, a schedule for the study of mental ab-
normalities by Dr. Adolf Meyer, and directions for anthropometric
investigations by Dr. W. O. Krohn. One of the most valuable
articles in the book is that by Dr. C. C. Van Liew, the Secretary of
the Society, entitled 'The Study of the Child on Entering School.'
The list of questions asked in this article regarding physical, mental,
emotional and volitional development shows the writer to be a keen
observer and a thoughtful Investigator. Every teacher would do
well to study carefully this article and that by President Hall, en-
titled 'The Contents of Children's Minds on Entering School'
(Ped. Sem., Vol. I, No. 2.) Among the remaining articles of the
Handbook there are two topics of very great importance, viz., the
child's imitation of his teacher (by Prof. Bryan), and the child's
interests (by Prof. E. E. Brown). The teacher who has enough
interest in the child to lead him to study carefully and systematically
the prevailing interests of that child has taken a long step in the
direction of preparation for successful teaching.

TORONTO UNIVERSITY. F. TRACY.

ANTHROPOMETRY.

Physical and Mental Deviations from the Normal among Children in Pub-
lic, Elementary and other Schools. Anthropometric Work in Schools.
Anthropometric Laboratory. Three reports of committees before
the Oxford meeting of the British Association for the advance-
ment of Science. London, John Murray, 1894. Pp. 434-453-

The British Association performs an important service in main-
taining a large number of committees whose duty it is to investigate
special subjects and report before the annual meeting. About fifty
such reports were presented at Oxford, a majority of the committees
being assisted by grants of money varying in amount from $25 to
$500. The three reports recorded above are of psychological inter-
est, and attention should be called to them, as the place of publica-
tion is such that they are liable to be overlooked.

PS YCHOLOGICAL LITER A TURE. 5 1 1

The committee on deviation from the normal among children
report on 50,000 children seen individually by Dr. Francis Warner,
1892-4. Of these 8,941 were found defective in some respect. The
greater variability of the boys is not considered by the committee,
but is of interest: — 19 # of the boys were defective and i6# of the
girls. It is almost certain that desirable variations would also be
found more common in the case of boys. The greater variability of
the male is usual throughout the animal kingdom — the females of
closely related species are sometimes almost indistinguishable. In
so far as the same holds for man is a matter of considerable theo-
retical and practical importance. The committee give a table show-
ing the nature and prevalence of the defects, the details of which
are of interest. The statistics have, however, been obtained after
a cursory examination by Dr. Warner, e. g., those children wearing
glasses were recorded but defects of accommodation were not deter-
mined, and his personal equation must largely influence the results.
' Nerve signs ' is a relative term — other observers examining the
same children might find these in twice as many or in half as many
cases.

The report of the second committee inquires to what extent
actual anthropometric measurements are now made in schools and
suggests methods for carrying them out. Of 398 schools replying
to the circular of the committee, 58 make measurements, but they
are usually simply of weight and size. Only three schools test
color-blindness, yet this test which could be made in a few seconds
would give information of the greatest possible value to one boy in
every twenty. We may hope that not only the measurements recom-
mended by the committee, but also certain mental tests, as of mem-
ory and attention, may be gradually introduced into our schools.

At each meeting of the Association for the past seven years a
temporary anthropometric laboratory has been fitted up, and a third
committee gives the results obtained from 155 observers at the
Nottingham meeting. The measurements are mostly physical and
only become of interest when compared with corresponding results
from other races or other classes of the community. It is worth
noticing, however, that only one-third of the men had normal vision.

J. McK. C.

$12 NEUROLOGY.

NEUROLOGY.

ZweiFalle von Rindenldsion Ein Bcitrag zur Localisation der Vorstellungen.
C. WERNICKE. Arbeiten der psychiatrischen Klinik zu Breslau.
Heft II. Leipzig, G. Thieme, 1895.

Grundriss der Psychiatric. C. WERNICKE. Theil I. Psychophysio-
logische Einleitung. Leipzig, G. Thieme, 1894. Pp. 80.

Wernicke reports two cases of lesion of the cortex resembling
each other closely. There was a defect in the middle third of both
central gyri esp. of the ascending parietal, caused in one instance
by a blow and fracture of the skull, in the other by the rupture of
,an artery. The chief clinical symptoms after the defect ceased to
be irritative were: tactile paralysis of the right hand with relatively
little disorder of the sensibility and of subtle motility. Both cases
had a disorder of speech, not unlike that observed in general paraly-
sis, persistent in the case with somewhat larger cortical lesion, tran-
sitory in the other. Wernicke classifies the disorder as transcortical
motor aphasia. The most important feature in both patients is that
they had difficulty in recognizing objects by palpation, although
there was hardly any disorder of sensibility in the hand. Wernicke
explains this tactile paralysis as a loss of memories (vorstellungen),
and mentions the very frequent cases of peripheral nerve lesion that
form a remarkable contrast to the two just reported by showing
very extensive disorders of sensibility with very little impairment of
recognizing objects by touch. In lesion of the peripheral nerves,
the disorder of tactile interpretation seems to be almost propor-
tionate to the disorder of the sense of position of the members used;
consequently this ability of recognizing objects has been made de-
pendent on the integrity of the sensation of position. This seems
not to be correct. Wernicke reports a case of locomotor ataxia
who has in his right hand marked dullness of the tactile sensibility
and complete loss of the sensation of position. The localisation of
such stimuli as are felt at all is preserved, and the patient recognizes
with his hand many larger objects, but not small ones. In the left
hand, the tactile sense is better preserved, there remains a trace of
sensation of positions : almost every object of some size is recog-
nized. These cases show plainly that the lack of tactile discrimin-
ation cannot be due to the slight defect of tactile sensibility in the
two cases of brain lesion, but must depend on the cortical defect.

The anatomical substratum of the tactile conceptions is formed
by groups of cells connected by association fibres; the same concrete

PS YCHO LOGICAL LITER A TURE. 5 1 3

object, the same sensation elements, are excited in the same arrange-
ment and sequence, as often as the tactile process is repeated. The
ganglion cells of the cortex (which ones ?) represent the sensation
element; the association of the sensation-elements is brought about
by the association fibres. The functional groups thus formed for
the tactile preceptions must be located in the part of the cortex
which was found destroyed in the two cases reported. Of course,
the patients were able to recognize objects with their left hand be-
cause the corresponding cortex of the right hemisphere was intact;
but cases of so-called asymbolia show that the perception of objects
touched is completely lost, as soon as the same parts in both hemis-
pheres are destroyed. Wernicke comments on this statement in a
note as follows: "Without any prejudice the defect can be defined,
that the conceptions are no longer produced by the process of touch,
the cause of this would then be left to further investigation."

A further point of interest consists in the relation between loss
of conception of movements and conceptions of writing. Both
patients recovered the use of their hand and fingers for almost all
single and combined movements, even where tactile guidance was
excluded (movements of opposition of fingers). The great difficulty
in writing disappeared together with the difficulty in finer manipu-
lations generally. A special center for agraphia seems not to be
probable.

Both cases showed plainly that the distribution of the paralysis
and the disorder of sensibility shortly after the injury followed the
subdivision given by the articulations, leaving the movements of
shoulder and elbow perfectly intact. Pain and temperature sense
remained unaffected; tactile sensibility was first diminished on the
forearm and hand, but returned in a few days; but the sense of
localisation remained defective in the hand and fingers.

These observations are of importance because Wernicke bases on
them and on his theory of aphasia the psychophysiological introduc-
tion of his Grundriss der Psychiatric. It is practically a brilliant
attempt of translating the psychological language into the termin-
ology used in dealing with diseases of the brain. Whether it will
prove to be more remains to be demonstrated by the practical part
of the work. However paradoxical and dogmatic many of the views
are, they cannot help rousing thought in the direction of rational
psychology. It is difficult to do the work justice in a short review;
but the main points may be summed up as follows :

In his theory of aphasia, Wernicke recognizes a sensory projec-
tion field S and a motor projection field M. M is the place of

514 NEUROLOGY.

origin of that part of the central motor path which transmits the*
impulses for the articulation of speech and, at the same time M is-
the seat of the ' Sprachbewegungsvorstellungen* or 'memories of the
movements of articulation.' The Sensory field S. is the central
end of the auditory path and the seat of the memories of the ' Klang-
bilder der Worte* or auditory word images. As such it has the func-
tion of primary identification of the sounds. The secondary identification,
the connection of sound and idea, depends on the function of the
transcortical association fibres and of the center of ideas, which, of
course, is only a schematic term and is really distributed over parts
of the cortex very distant from each other. The connection between
the supposed center of ideas and the center of motor memories of
speech would form the terminal path of the apparatus of secondary
identification formation of answers and speech generally. All
strange utterances of the insane are symptoms of disturbed secon-
dary identification and Wernicke feels justified in generalizing this
and in saying that mental diseases are disorders of secondary identi-
fication and have their seat in the transcortical or association tracts
without affecting the projection systems except where focal symp-
toms are sometimes present, as in general paralysis.

The regularity of the association is due to the principle of ' Bah-
nung* The only objective signs of the character of mental processes
are the movements which W. subdivides into movements of expres-
sion, of reaction and of imitation, three groups that overlap con-
siderably. The following classification would give all the possibilities-
of disorders of secondary identification :

Psychosensory: Psychomotor: Intrapsychical:

Anaesthesia Akinesis Afunction

Hyperaesthesia Hyperkinesis Hyperfunction

Paraesthesia Parakinesis Parafunction.

While W. limits the faculty of memory unduly to the nerve cell
bodies (for which view he gives only evidence of probability (p. 22)
and against which the theory of the neuron seems to speak), he
admits that no special memory-cells are needed. The memory image
is nothing but an acquired association of perceiving elements of the
central projection field. The difference between memories and
after-images of the retina is explained by the fact that the cerebral
cortex has association fibres, whereas the retina has none. One of
the most important associations of the perceiving elements of vision
is that with the memories of the movements of the eye.

Associations of memories of sensory impressions form the ' con-
crete idea* with its essential and unessential qualities. Their siim is-
our consciousness of the outside world.

PS YCHOLOGICAL LITERA TURE. 5 I 5

Most associations depend on simultaneity of impressions; another
kind depends on the sequence of impressions and in a similar way on
the principle of the ausgeschliffenen Bahnen (traces worn). It is this
latter form of associations on which reasoning and our knowledge of
the order and causation of things depend. * The insisting on a knowl-
edge of causes (Camalitdtsbedurfniss) is an inborn defect or quality of
our brain.' The anatomical explanation would be as follows : Path-
ways would connect the places where the memories of each sense
are localised. The regularity in the activity of certain association
tracts will correspond to the regularity of things happening outside.
The associations are not, however, a picture of the connection of the
things themselves, but only the traces left by them in the sensory
fields ; hence their subjective character. The possibilities of con-
nections seem so numerous that Wernicke resorts after all to the
hypothesis that the psychological unit of a memory also corresponds
to an anatomical unit. They might be, for instance, the cells of
certain cortical "layers which receive fibre processes from the asso-
ciation cells, but at the same time, would be connected with the
perception or projection cells." Thus we meet after all the 'mem-
ory-cells,' although they were said to be unnecessary.

Lecture 5 treats the consciousness of our body, of the 'primary
ego,' as an acquired function of the central projection fields. After
a very interesting description of his views on the development and
importance of 'local signs' and organic feelings as part of the organic
consciousness, Wernicke enters again the field of speculation with
regard to the central projection fields. Organic consciousness is repre-
sented by the perception cells, a primary station of the cortex, which
must be passed before the sensory impression reaches the conscious-
ness of the external world. "The stratification of the ganglion cells
of the cerebral cortex favors such a theory according to which the
layer or layers next to the marrow would represent the ' Bewusstsein
der Korperlichkeit ' or organic consciousness." This statement almost
reminds one of the naive idea of Baillarger, that the stratification of
the cortex has a great and by no means accidental resemblance with
a voltaic pile.

Lecture 6 treats the importance of the movements and their rela-
tion to the organic sensations. The yth lecture on the conscious-
ness of the personality ends with the statement that self consciousness
is really an illusion inasmuch as the mental personality does not
perceive itself, but that personality that existed a few moments,
hours, days, or even years previous. The last lecture is a clever
application of the results obtained to a picture of mental life, lead-

5i6

VISION.

ing over to the special field of psychiatry. The problem of attention
is considered with special reference to the power of application of
attention, called ' Merkfachigkeit* by Wernicke, both with regard to
the acquirement of new memories and to the remembrance of old
ones. The emotion and the relative import of conceptions are
studied last and lead over to a consideration of abnormal emotions
and delusions, etc.

The little work of only 80 pages contains so may interesting
remarks that it cannot be done justice in such a short recapitulation.
It shows in a concise and clear manner the trend of thought pre-
valent among alienists and physicians and is based to a great extent
on the previous works of Wernicke. At the same time it shows the
wide gaps between our actual knowledge of the functional anatomy
of the nervous system and psychiatry and rational psychology all the
more as it tries to build numerous bridges with a certain amount of
optimism.

HOSPITAL, ILLS. A. MAYER.

VISION.

Ueber die Erkennbarkeit des Sehpurpurs von Abramis Brama mit Hiilfe
des Augensptegels. G. ABELSDORFF. Stzber. der Akad. d. Wiss.
zu Berlin, 4 Apr. 1895.
Zur Darstellung des Sehpurpurs. O. KUHNE. Ztsch. of Biol. XXXII.

21-28.

When Boll first discovered the visual purple, he was of the opin-
ion that part of the red color visible when the eye is looked at through
the ophthalmoscope is due to this substance. Becker and Coccius,
among others, showed that this is not the case, but that the visual
purple in the living eye is completely masked by the thick layer of
blood-vessels behind the rods and cones. After it was known that
in ultraviolet light the retina fluoresces a light blue when the
visual purple is present, and a light green after it is bleached out, it
was thought that in the case of an individual whose lens had been
extracted, the condition of the visual purple could be detected by
this mark; but the fluorescence turned out to be not sufficiently
strong, and nothing was accomplished by this means. But Dr.
Abelsdorff, working in Konig's laboratory, has at last been able to
watch the gradual fading out of this substance in the living eye.
Besides the more common choroidal tapetum, some fishes are pro-
vided with a retinal tapetum, formed by a layer of highly reflecting
substance in the epithelium cells. Against this white background the
visual purple can be plainly seen, through the ophthalmoscope, and

PS YCHOLOGICAL LITER A TURE. 5 I /

it can be watched at one's leisure as it gradually gives place to the
visual yellow, and then entirely disappears. For the details of the
proceeding, the original paper must be consulted.

Kiihne has at last been able to perfect a method by which the
visual purple can be extracted free from every trace of haemoglobin,
and hence particularly well adapted to the critical experiments which
now have to be made with it. He also succeeds, by means of puri-
fying it with magnesium sulphate and drying it in vacuo over sul-
phuric acid, in obtaining a dry powder which can be permanently
kept, and used at any time, and with any color-depth, in examining
the properties of this substance. This important improvement in
the method of handling and preserving the visual purple ought to
lead, in the light of Konig's recent researches upon it, to a renewed
interest in its study.

BALTIMORE. C. LADD FRANKLIN.

Ueber den Nachweis von Contrasterscheinungen im Gebiete der Raum-
empfindungen des Auges. J. LOEB. Pfluger's Archiv. f. d.
gesammte Physiologic, LX, 509-518. 1895.

That a spatial sensation becomes modified, if a second spatial
sensation is simultaneously produced and attended to, is seen in
many well-known optical illusions. Whether this influence ever
takes the form of a contrast is, says Loeb, still an undetermined
question. It is assumed by some for the directions of lines, but this
view is supported only by the very illusions to whose explanation it
is applied, and other explanations of these illusions are given.

A simple experiment, however, proves the existence of this
spatial contrast. Let the experimenter, with head fixed, place on a
horizontal table two lines or points in such position that they shall be
equally distant (about 40 cm.) from the intersection of the median
plane of the observer with the table, to the right of it, and parallel to
it. Place now a third line or point by the side of the nearer one of the
other two. The latter will no longer appear to be at the same dis-
tance as the farther one from the median plane, but if the third be
placed nearer the median plane than the second the latter will appear
to be displaced toward the right ; if farther, toward the left. The
same illusion appears in experimenting with distances away from the
observer, as with distances to right or left. Attention to both the
inducing and the influenced objects is necessary in order to produce
the contrast effect ; hence the effect is greater the nearer they are
together. The average apparent displacement, measured on eight
persons, is 3-6 mm. This spatial contrast explains the fact that

5l8 NEUROLOGY.

shorter distances of objects from one another appear relatively
larger than longer distances ; also the fact that two points appear
farther apart if other points are placed between them.

No attempt is made by Loeb to explain the illusion which he
describes. He merely establishes it as a fact, and calls it a case of
contrast ; but he does not tell how the contrast is to be accounted
for.

Untersuchungen iiber Farbeninduktion. KR. B. R. AARS. Kristiania,
1895. 15 pages. 3 tables.

When colored surfaces are placed near one another, each affects
the impression received from the other, in some cases by contrast-
induction, in others by color mixture, called by Aars syncrasy-induc-
tion. To investigate these effects, Aars used discs covered each
with sectors of two colors, those of the inducing color having an
angle of 45°, of the induced color 15°. The effect of eleven induc-
ing on seven induced colors was noted. The distance of the observer
from the discs was for the most part seven meters. His results are:
(i) Contrast-induction takes place under wider differences of bright-
ness between the two colors than is usually assumed, especially in
orange and in green. (2) Syncrasy diminishes and contrast-induc-
tion increases when the inducing color lies (in its position in the
spectrum) in the immediate neighborhood either of the induced color
or of its complementary color. Orange and green, however, offer
exceptions. Syncrasy takes place instead of contrast when orange
is combined with colors lying near its complement (the blue colors),
and when green is combined with its own neighboring colors to the
right (likewise the blue colors). This is because the blue colors
possess an unusually large coloring power. Yellow shows varying
results, easily losing its character as a true color, and leaving free
play to the rival influences. White sectors show syncrasy as well as
contrast-induction.

These results Aars presents graphically in curves, showing the
results of the combination of each induced with each inducing color,
and comparing them with the results obtained by the use of rotating
discs.

Ueber das sogenannte Purkinje* sche Phdnomen. E. HERING. Pfluger's
Archiv, f. d. gesammte Physiologic, LX, 519-542. 1895.

If in a light of moderate brightness two colors are chosen of
apparently the same intensity and saturation, and the illumination is
then diminished, the blues and greens will appear brighter than the

PS YCHOLOGICAL LITER A TURE. 5 1 9

*reds or yellows. This is Purkinje's phenomenon, which heretofore
has received no satisfactory explanation. Hering investigates and
^explains it in his characteristically thorough manner. For its pro-
duction he arranges color glasses before two holes in a door, com-
municating between two rooms, both of which can be separately
darkened, in one of which, whose walls and door are made entirely
white, sits the observer, and in the other of which is a white screen
which reflects light through the holes. This arrangement permits a
darkening, either of the colored surfaces alone, or of the field about
them alone, or of both together. He demonstrates the following
facts; the explanation of the phenomenon is given most fully under
number 4. — i. The simultaneous and equal diminution of the light-
intensity of two colors is not sufficient to bring about the Purkinje
phenomenon. This can be shown by diminishing the illumination
•of the screen-room, leaving that of the observation-room unchanged.
The blue or green does not then become brighter than the red. Yet
Helmholtz had regarded the change in intensity of the compared
-colors as the essential condition of the phenomenon. This experi-
ment shows that he was mistaken. When blue and red papers are
.compared, and the illumination of the whole observation-room is
gradually diminished, the blue does appear brighter than the red;
and in the end the former may become colorless white, the latter
-colorless dark-gray. The difference between the two experiments is,
that in the former the eyes retain their general adaptation for bright-
mess, in the latter they become gradually adapted to darkness. The
change in Stimmung, or sensitiveness to light, is then the essential
condition of the phenomenon; and this fact is clearly established by
the next experiment. 2. The mere change in sensitiveness (Stim-
mung) of the portions of the visual apparatus excited by the colors
is sufficient to bring about the Purkinje phenomenon, the light-
intensity of the two colors remaining unchanged. To show this,
darken the screen-room until the colors are but just recognizable;
then, leaving their intensity (which remains still apparently about
.equal) unchanged, suddenly darken the observation-room. The
Purkinje phenomenon appears. The illumination of the retinal por-
tions affected by the colored fields remains unchanged, but their
Stimmung is altered by the darkening of the surrounding field. The
sudden change in Stimmung, which the entire visual apparatus un-
dergoes in this rapid darkening, Hering calls the instantaneous-
adaptation for darkness, in distinction from the lasting-adaptation
which results from remaining a considerable time in darkness. By
"Covering-over one eye during the night after considerable sleep, and

520 VISION.

keeping it closely covered until the experiment is tried, it is possible
to compare the appearance of the phenomenon to an eye with instan-
taneous-adaptation, and to one with lasting-adaptation for darkness.
In both cases the phenomenon is more striking when the colors are
observed in indirect vision. 3. The phenomenon appears when there
is a simultaneous change in the Stimmung of the eye and in the
light-intensity of the colors. This can be shown by darkening both
rooms, or by the ordinary observation of the phenomenon with colored
papers. 4. The Purkinje phenomenon is characterized as much by
the change in saturation of the colors, as by the change in their
relative brightness. If we take two colored papers, spectral red and
spectral blue, which in daylight appear of nearly equal brightness,
and then gradually darken the room, both colors become less sat-
urated, and the change in saturation of the red is entirely different
from that of the blue: the latter becomes constantly whiter and
finally a colorless light-gray, the former darker until it is colorless
dark-gray. This gradual disappearance of the colored components
as against the colorless, and thus the change in saturation of the
colors, is a conditio sine qua non of the Purkinje phenomenon. It
has been heretofore overlooked, yet it is responsible for the change
in brightness of the colors, and it depends itself upon the difference
in the admixture of white with the original spectral colors. If a
blue and a red are chosen which have an equal admixture of white,
the red in good illumination will appear brighter than the blue,
which difference will gradually become less if the illumination is
diminished. A blue which appears in daylight of the same bright-
ness as a red, has really a larger admixture of white: for, as Hering
has previously shown, a red or yellow component has a relatively
brightening effect, a green or blue a relatively darkening effect, on the
total sensation. In the ordinary demonstration of the phenomenon, we
choose a red with a small, a blue with a larger admixture of white. In
ordinary light they appear of equal brightness; when the illumination
is lessened, the colored components produce less and less effect, the
colorless become more apparent and their difference is emphasized
by the adaptation of the eye for darkness. Hence the brightening
of the blue and the relative darkening of the red. 5. The Purkinje
phenomenon can be produced by a mere change of the illuminated
portions of the retina. The sensitiveness to white increases, that for
colors diminishes, from the centre of the visual field toward the
periphery. This is especially true when the illumination is slight,
and the eye is thus instantaneously or lastingly adapted for dark-
ness. If then we darken considerably first the screen-room, and

PS YCHOLOGICA L LI TERA TURE. 5 2 t

then the observation-room, a red and green may still appear sat-
urated and of equal brightness by direct vision; but to indirect vision
the green will appear brighter, because the different admixtures of
white in the two colors will become more perceptible. 6. The Pur-
kinje phenomenon is essentially unchanged, when homogeneous
spectral light is used, in place of colored glasses or papers. 7.
Konig has made extended measurements, in which, having made two
different spectral colors of the same apparent brightness, he repeated
the operation for different degress of light-intensity of one of the
lights. He found that intensities of the second light were neces-
sary, in order to make it appear equally bright, which showed a con-
stantly different relation to the intensity of the first light, varying
with the degree of intensity of the latter. These measurements are
unreliable, because the apparent intensity of the lights he used
depended not only on their 'absolute intensity,' but also to a large
extent on the momentary and changing adaptation of the eye ; ancf
he took no account of the latter factor.

BROWN UNIVERSITY. E. B. DELABARRE.

Die Spontane Umwandlung der Nachbilder der Sonne in regulare Sech-

secke oder Acktecke. G. WAGNER. Zeitsch f. Psy. Band IX,

Heft I. Pp. 17-22.
Subjective Visual Sensations. W. R. GOWERS. The Bowman Lecture,

delivered before the Opthalmological Society on June 14, 1895.

The Lancet, June 22 and 29. Nature, July 4 (condensed).

Dr. Wagner has observed that the circular after-image of the sun
may in his case spontaneously change to a hexagon or an octagon.
The change usually occurs in the negative phase of the image, but
after it has taken place it lasts until the image disappears. He sees
the phenomenon best when he gets by accident an image of the
setting sun and on the periphery of the retina. He says the beginner
must practice regularly for fourteen days before he can expect to see
the images, but does not make it clear whether or not his obser-
vation has been confirmed by others. The ' beginner ' should, how-
ever, be very careful in undertaking to observe after-images of the
sun, or he will suffer the experience so graphically described by
Newton. The hexagons observed by Dr. Wagner seem related to
that seen by Purkinje (Physiologic der Sinne] on revolving wheels —
which he could only see with one of his eyes and which does not
seem to have been subsequently confirmed — and the hexagonal sub-
division of the field of vision described by Dr. Konig (Grafe's Archiv,
XXX). The hexagons would seem to be due to some structural

522 ETHICAL.

peculiarity of the retina, but no anatomical basis has been observed,
and it may be necessary to seek for it in the brain rather than in
the retina.

Dr. Gowers in an interesting lecture describes the subjective
visual sensations preceding epileptic fits and megraine or 'sick-
headache.' In the case of epilepsy the images may be 'stars,'
flashes or luminous spheres, or they may be hullucinations. The
image often crosses the field of vision and is followed by movements
of the head and eyes. A curious fact is that bright reds and greens
may appear in the periphery of the retina beyond the field usually
assigned to color-vision — a fact the present writer has observed in
the case of after-images. Dr. Gowers exhibited and deposited with
the society sets of drawings showing images which occurred as pre-
cursory symptoms of sick headaches. These are zig-zag lines
resembling the outlines used in fortifications. The angled and zig-
zag lines seem related to the hexagons noticed above. Dr. Gowers
thinks the phenomena are due to discharge in cerebral centers, and
the present writer believes that this is correct and that it is not
reasonable to attribute the complex phenomena of vision chiefly to
the retina. J. McK. C.

ETHICAL.

The Rise and Development of the Moral Feelings. A. A. TOKARSKIY.
Voprosi filosofi, VI, i, Jan., 1895.

We receive from the external world feelings and groups of feel-
ings (or perceptions) which function in memory as ideas and con-
cepts. Each feeling and perception is accompanied by a felt tone,
which is either pleasurable or painful. These qualities of pleasure
or pain awaken corresponding ideas and concepts, only weaker in
degree; but unlike the original feelings, which proceed by reaction
of the organism upon external stimulation, the corresponding ideas
and concepts are dependent exclusively upon the nature and social
position of the percipient. Consequently as from the ideas one can-
not always infer the corresponding feeling, just so the same feeling
hardly ever accompanies the same idea. This general psychological
observation may apply to those feelings called moral.

Moreover since every feeling has in consciousness a correspond-
ing idea we find at the same time growing up through a process of
abstraction a few universal principles to which each class of feelings
is invariably referred. That is, as we know the percepts and ideas
with which moral feelings are united in us, just so we are able to

PS YCHOLOGICAL LITER A TURE. $2$

find the universal — the known abstract formula, which will show to
us in all its generalizations, the object of moral feelings, and which
at the same time will give them their most general characterization.
All experiences divide into two groups: (a) Those that suggest the
desire to govern; (b) those that do not.

Those experiences that suggest the desire to govern are such as
satisfy the needs of body or mind — personal needs, satisfaction of
which can give only pleasure. As such they are quite relative to the
individual, and are in consequence termed Egoistic feelings.

On the other hand, those experiences that cannot suggest the
desire to govern, do not remain indifferent to us; but according as
each stimulation by our essential nature is pleasurable or painful
they are in every case distinguishable.

It is in this way we find moral feelings proceed under the two
general categories (a) of pleasure, as determined by what is good for
the organism; (b) of pain, as determined by what is bad for the or-
ganism. Along with the sense of pleasure, as determined by what
is good for the organism, follows the desire that the object of that
pleasure should continue to exist; and in turn the feeling that
threatens dissolution of pleasure gives uneasiness or pain. That is,
pain at the loss of a certain pleasurable feeling that has been good
for us in the past, gives, at the same time, increased feeling for life,
which in its very tone as pain (or pleasure) is the beginning of the
moral sense.

The Egoistic and Altruistic moral Feelings do not then find their
respective meanings in a qualitative difference, but since both rise in
the desire for increased life, they rather differ in the nature of their
object. The Egoistic terminate in the desire to govern, and
are thus individualistic. The Altruistic find meaning in refer-
ence to an object world as such; while from the standpoint of the
Egoistic feelings it is possible to show how man might have devel-
oped moral feeling in perfect isolation, yet, as a matter of fact, man
has from the first displayed social impulses which give moral feelings
their other aspect as altruistic.

Altruistic feelings are exhibited under the rubric of Sympathy.
Those feelings that suggest or interpret Sympathy are the most inten-
sive states such as the mere affects of joy or sorrow, so far as these
states are communicable.

Sympathy may be generically defined as the general capacity to
reproduce by oneself feelings experienced by another. Under this
general rubric two specific forms must be distinguished.

a. Organic sympathy arises from purely physiological peculiari-

524 ETHICAL.

ties of similar organisms and as such is a phenomenon to be experi-
enced only in a community of like needs and interests.

b. Condolence or Co-suffering, as a specific form of Sympathy,
is the capacity of reproducing in oneself, the pain experienced by
another of like constitution.

From the above specifications, it may be inferred, moral feelings,
however egoistical in origin, are only experienced in full (as worth)
when man contemplates the object — nature and man, which by its
universality and intensity drives out the lower Egoistic moral feel-
ings. The subject is further developed in its social bearings.1

PRINCETON. LESTER JONES.

Werththeorie und Ethik. CHR. EHRENFELS. Vierteljahrschrift fur
wissenschaftliche Philosophic, 1893, I, 76; II, 200; III, 321;
IV, 413; 1894, I, 77.

In these five articles the author treats of his subject under
three topics: an analysis of the general idea of value, the theory of
the variation of value, and its special relations in the sphere of
ethics. There is an introduction with criticism of the labors of
Menger and Wieser in this field. Ehrenfels regards value as pro-
portional to utility, and subject to the law concerning the final de-
gree of utility, which is determined by the supply and demand ratio.
Utility is the capability of satisfying need, either appeasing desire or
relieving discomfort and pain; this is not in relation to the passive
states of pleasure and pain, but rather to the active wishes, the striv-
ing and willing. Value, therefore, is in proportion to the intensity
of desire. It may refer to the worth of an object in and for itself,
or merely for what the object is able to effect. Utility may be re-
garded in a special or general sense; as special (JVutzen), it is that
which produces value which can be interpreted in terms of happiness,
as general (Frommeri), it is that which creates value of any kind
whatsoever. Concerning variation in value, Ehrenfels emphasizes its
psychological basis in that continuous changes in desire and general
disposition produce variations in our estimation of objects which are
capable of satisfying our varying needs. Moreover, different persons
possess different aptitudes, some of which are original, others
acquired in process of development of the organism, others again
are occasioned through individual propensity to variation. Natural
desires are modified in various ways through psychological laws,
such as that of habit, of disuse, of association, or of the transfer
from feeling to its cause, thus awakening the potential feeling

1 From the manuscript translation of A. W. Herdler.

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. $2$

through ideation, or through representation of the objects which are
calculated to arouse the feeling. Moreover, the influence of mind
upon mind is a force which modifies one's idea of the pleasurable
and the painful. This force may act through compulsion, example,
or suggestion. The latter may be either normal or hypnotic. Value
will vary with the desires thus modified.

Again, an object may be esteemed in one of the three senses: as
means to an end, as an end in itself, or as the secondary conse-
quences of the end. Variation in value may arise, either in the
transfer of esteem from the end to the means, regarding the means
as an end in itself, as the miser and his gold; or in the transfer of
esteem from the end to the consequences of the end, as in the case
of regard for food for its nourishment, rather than mere appeasing
of hunger. Value thus derived through consideration of the more
remote consequences attending the use of certain objects, becomes
a factor in the development of the organism and the race. Those
races have survived who have esteemed the various objects whose
use has made for the preservation of life and increase of strength
and power in the struggle for existence.

Each organism, moreover, has its own peculiar and limited sum
of vital energy, and capacity for assimilation and adaptation. Desire
will vary with the plus or minus of this vital energy, and this in turn
will cause corresponding variations in value. The excess or de-
ficiency in vital energy gives rise to four types of activity, resulting
in mere preservation, in development, in arrested growth, and in
degeneration.

Here follows a presentation of the theory of value in its ethical
bearings. He draws a distinction between social and individual
ethics. Ethical value is estimated in reference to the corresponding
psychological state of elevation or depression which accompanies
man's views of life's problem and the mysteries of existence. The
feeling of elevation is mystical good. Whatever promotes it is good,
and of value accordingly ; whatever does not is evil. The psychical
accompaniments, experiences, duties, etc., go to make up the ethi-
cal sanction. The highest ethical sentiment is love ; and yet
benevolence and sympathy, and all altruistic virtues must be coordi-
nated with the purely individual virtues, as integrity, thrift, loyalty,
etc. As to the worth-judgments, there are two types, the naive and
the sentimental, which are illustrated in ancient and Christian phi-
losophy respectively. There is a like derivation of- ethical value of
an object considered in and for itself, from the utility of the object
considered as means to end. Ethical worth is thus founded upon a

526 ETHICAL.

utilitarian basis. There are three categories of ethical value de-
termined by the presence or absence of the utility factor, as follows :

1. Objects, or conduct still regarded as having ethical value
which once possessed utility, but in course of development their
utility function has disappeared. This gives rise to the two types,
of arrested development and degeneration.

2. The normal ethical valuation of objects, or conduct whose
utility is still existent and apparent.

3. Where the end to be realized is as yet ideal and not actual.

Ehrenfels suggests the question whether the law of the final de-
gree of utility applies to the sphere of ethics. He calls attention to
the fact that certain actions, as self-support, care of the young,
while useful can not be considered as having ethical value, inasmuch
as the predisposition to such actions is instinctive, and therefore
always present in sufficient quantity and degree to further the
preservation and welfare of the race. There is a necessity here of
understanding the law of the increase or decrease of ethical supply.
The tendency of ethical disposition is to manifest itself where it is
most needed, and therefore most highly valued. There is a pro-
gress, moreover, in ethical estimation, in the formation of new ethi-
cal characteristics and feelings in man's aspirations after inner
harmony with his social environment, also through man's progress
in the better understanding of his social environment, and the con-
ditions of its welfare, together with the continual widening of his
ethical sphere of interests and activities. As to the ethical ideal,
the principle of greatest good of greatest number must be supple-
mented by the principle of greatest progress. And yet it must be
observed also that the greatest success and satisfaction follows one
who is engrossed in the activity attending the pursuit, while the im-
portance of the end is lost sight of for the present at least. In the
striving itself there is real moral worth. From the standpoint of the
ethical sanction, that condition or activity has greatest moral value
which brings one into complete harmony with his environment, both
present and future. In the appendix Ehrenfels gives an extended
criticism of Brentano's theory of a good in itself as the basis of uni-
versal moral law. These articles abound in very careful analysis,
and are rich in illustration and analogy. They furnish a utilitarian
basis for morality, and are open to the general criticism of utili-
tarian ethic. It seems to me, also, that the idea of value cannot be
preserved in all its manifold significance in passing from the
economic to the ethical sphere. The analogy is suggestive, but
there is danger of pressing it too far.

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. $2?

Zur Frage ilber die Freiheit des Willens. M. SWEREFF. Vierteljahrs-
schrift fiir wissenschaftliche Philosophic. 1893, IV, 476; 1894,
I, 98.

The subject is treated in the first part in a critical manner, and
in the second the author presents his constructive position. He
finds a fundamental error in the traditional statement of the problem
which recognizes an antithesis between freedom and causality. Free-
will must then be considered as wholly uncaused and therefore
essentially lawless. The result is that human activity is reduced,
as Paulsen puts it to a 'series of disconnected and undesigned
accidents.' Causation and freedom must therefore be considered, as
the inner and outer aspects of one and the same phenomenon, and
not necessarily in conflict. They can agree if considered as concepts
of different categories, such as the categories of sound, and color.
The theory of indifferent choice does not remove the difficulty.
Choice, if it means anything, signifies a choosing for some reason,
or some ground. An unmotived choice is the same as the lawless-
ness above mentioned. Again, we do not avoid the difficulty in the
theory of self-determination. This does not clear, only obscures the
question. The old problem still emerges, — is the self-determination
through motive or not? The free-will dilemma still confronts us.
Another theory that the will is an originally creative act, only sug-
gests the some old query, — is the creative act according to some
recognized end or not ? Is there a reason for the act in question,
or not ? The same difficulty lies at the bottom of all these theories.

As to Swereff s constructive position, he holds that the question
of freedom of the will concerns only deliberative actions. Where
distinctly recognized alternatives are before us; all automatic or
ideo-motor actions do not raise the question of free-will at all. He
is free who chooses according to his reason. Reason regarded as
motive to action has the power of silencing and ruling all other
motives. This power varies in man according to birth, education,
etc. It varies also in the individual at different times according to
presence or absence of conflicting motives. Here arise also moral
considerations. Every one possesses ideas of a distinction between
good and evil as immediate deliverances of the judgment. Here it
must be observed that law and motived regularity in the sphere of
understanding is quite different from the same in the sphere of im-
pulse. How then explain choice, and responsibility with this law of
mental activity, namely the compulsion of reason ? Responsibility
must be regarded as incompatible only with a law of external neces-
sity. Reason is the expression of the Ego and reason founded upon

528 ETHICAL.

law means that the law is itself the expression of the Ego. Deter-
mined by Reason means in the deepest sense self-determination.
Responsibility arises from fact that conduct must emanate from me.
Responsibility is for what I essentially am.

An objection is considered, namely, that reason in the last analysis
is dependent upon the will, the fixation of attention, etc. This is
answered when we consider the true concept of a unity of conscious-
ness, in which feeling, reason, will all function. While all operating
together, the predominating factor gives character to the resulting
activity as will, reason, or feeling respectively. A second objection
is that which is suggested by the statistical study of social phenom-
ena, as observed in the labors of Siissmilch, Quetelet, and others.
Here it seems as though regularity emerged in the midst of confused
and widely different phenomena. Regularity in the aggregate is the
law. There are laws of disorder as well as order. This is not
incompatible, however, with the fact that the laws of reason should
^find objective manifestation in the activities and affairs of man.
Swereff's discussion of this old problem is of value chiefly because of
his psychological insight, and the fact that he attempts to solve the
difficulties of the question by means of clear psychological definitions
and distinctions.

Einiges zur Grundlegung der Sittenlehre. J. PETZOLDT. Vierteljahrs-
schrift fur wissenshaftliche Philosophic. 1893, II, 145; 1894, I,
32; II, 196.

These articles are based upon a criticism of Franz Staudinger's
'Die Gesetze der Freiheit.' Staudinger's theory of subjective contra-
diction, as the beginning of all volition, may be illustrated as follows:
In hunger the impulse to action in order to satisfy the craving of
appetite, arises from the mental representation of a contrast between
some former state where food was at hand, and the present state
where it is not. This creates a subjective tension towards some
change which is the potential of the act of willing and capable of
calling it forth. Some such experience characterizes the antecedents
of every act of volition. Petzoldt modifies this theory substantially;
he suggests that the subjective contradiction starts a series of activ-
ities whose end is stability. The mind is satisfied with that stability
alone which can be expressed either in general concepts or in laws
.of nature. The end of science is to discover such concepts and
laws, that in the repetition of any series eventuating in them, we
would not wish any change whatsoever, but are satisfied to rest
therein. The germs of this theory he finds in the theory of the vital

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. $2$

series elaborated by Richard Avenarius in his Kritik der reitien
Erfahrung 1888-90, and in his Der menschliche Weltbegriff '1891. The
theory of Avenarius concerned only the central nervous system, and
was physiological in character. The law of tendency towards stabil-
ity concerns physical, and psychical phenomena also. It is, more-
over, supplemented in this particular by the law of ' Parallelismus , '
which is the law of the correlation of all modifications of the central
nervous system with modifications of a psychical nature. Here fol-
lows a criticism of Wundt's * Princip des Wachsthums der geistigen
EnergieS and of Wundt's ' Begriff der geistigen Causalitdt.'

The moral ideal finally is that condition of psychical stability in
which all aims harmonize. The law of stability as presented by
Petzoldt, may be illustrated by the case of a woman and child found
by a passer by perishing with cold. He seeks to rescue them,
because he recognizes a condition of instability. His mind is ill at
ease, restless under such a condition. He seeks to restore the nor-
mal and stable condition, at same time bringing his own mind into
a like position of satisfaction and therefore stability. In all this,
and in any voluntary activity whatsoever, Petzoldt accounts for all
mental phenomena, simply by the three laws, of stability, conserva-
tion of energy, and the correlation of physiological and psychical
phenomena. His theory therefore is purely phenomenal, and dis-
claims any dependence whatsoever upon metaphysics and metaphys-
ical world-theories.

PRINCETON. JOHN GRIER HiBBEN.

PATHOLOGY.

Demon possession and allied Themes, being an inductive study of Phenomena
of our own Times. JOHN L. NEVIUS, D.D., with an introduction
by REV. F. F. ELLINWOOD, D.D. Fleming H. Revell Company,
Chicago: New York: Toronto. Small 8°. Pp. x, 482. $1.50.
[1894.]

This interesting contribution to mental pathology would probably
fifteen years ago have gained for its author a reputation for nothing
but mendacity or childish credulity in scientific circles; but now,
thanks to the ' apperceiving mass' which recent investigations into
trance-conditions have prepared, probably few readers of this
journal will be seriously tempted to doubt its being a trustworthy
report of facts. Dr. Nevius, for forty years a missionary in China,
who died in 1893, is described by Drs. Ellinwood and Rankin as a
man of rare learning, versatility and integrity. From the beginning

530 PATHOLOGY.

of his sojourn in China his attention was attracted to the popular
belief in demons and spirits. He found before long that the native
converts very commonly believed in demoniacal possession and in the
power of Christian rites and invocations to exorcise the spirit. In
1878 he met with his first case, that of a non-Christian native named
Kwo who, having bought a picture of the goddess Wang, had been
visited by a demon-counterfeit of the goddess in a dream who told
him she had taken up her abode in his house. Various neurotic con-
ditions and disorderly impulses had followed, ending in an attack of
frenzy during which, the man being unconscious, the demon spoke
through his lips, demanding incense, worship, etc. As usual, the
demands were met by the family, and the pacified demon thereafter
made periodical visitations, throwing the man into unconsciousness
and speaking through his organism, healing the diseases of visitors,
and giving practical advice. On Dr. Nevius assuring Kwo that con-
version to Christianity would rid him of the encumbrance, he became
baptized, the trance-state only recurring once afterwards and the
demon bidding a formal farewell on that occasion. Fourteen years
have passed without relapse. Kwo has had persecutions and trials
but no return of his malady, and neither he nor his neighbors think
of doubting that he was rescued from the dominion of an evil spirit
through faith and trust in Christ."

This case can serve as a type. Dr. Nevius has personally
observed several others, and collected a large amount of information
on the subject from other missionaries and from native Christians.
The possessed persons are unconscious during the attacks, which
have often, though not always, a convulsive character. The pos-
sessing spirit usually names itself, often as a deity, sometimes as a
departed human being, and demeans itself accordingly. Sometimes
it makes a formal treaty to behave well, on condition of certain favors
being granted it. Sometimes it is driven out by threats or needle-
pricks, etc. Christian rites seem to have extraordinary exorcising
efficacy. Epidemics of possession, like those recorded in Savoy by
Constans and by Chiap e Franzolini are not related by Dr. Nevius.
The phenomena are among the most constant in history, and it is
most extraordinary that ' Science ' should ever have become blind to
them. The form which they take in our community is the benign
one of mediumship. Dr. Nevius is a believer in the reality of the
alleged demons, and in the objectivity of their driving out by the
name of Christ, etc. Such questions cannot be fairly discussed,
however, till the phenomena have been more adequately studied.
Dr. Nevius gives a large amount of collateral material and biblio-

PS YCHO LOGICAL LIT ERA TURE. 5 3 1

graphical information; and we have to thank him and Dr. Rankin,
the book's editor, for an extremely good contribution to a really
important subject. W. J.

Studien zur Blinden-Psychologie. THEODOR HELLER. In. Diss., Leip-
zig. (Also in Philos. Studien.) 1895. Pp. 130.

Introduction. The difficulties in experimenting on the blind consist,
says Heller, in the comparative rarity of persons who have lost all
trace of color and light-sensations, and secondly in having usually
to work upon psychologically unpractised persons who require train-
ing for the purposes of research. In the later case, the author
recommends beginning with the investigation of the space-sense
according to Weber's method, and also familiarizing the subjects
with the usual psychological terminology.

I. Touch in the blind. The sense of touch is the only space-sense
in the blind. In consequence of the limitation of the sense of hear-
ing to the perception of intense qualities, a primarily spatial func-
tion cannot be ascribed to it. The blind use hand, tongue and feet
in touching. Of these, the tongue possesses the greatest delicacy
for spatial discernment. The hand adapts itself best to the exterior
form of objects, the feet serve to measure step-movements and to
touch objects lower in position. The system of touch-movements
and the representation of spatial relations must not be considered as
identical. Neither touch-movements nor the system of local signs
can produce space, both factors always work together in the devel-
opment of space representation, being related to each other as syn-
thesis to analysis. The author distinguishes accordingly a syn-
thetic and an analytic touch, but both species often mingle. Experi-
ments proved, that two needle-points the distance between which
about corresponded to the space-limen, were only felt apart under a
certain normal pressure. With slight touches, or beyond this normal
limen, the two impressions melted into one even below the pain-line.
Finger-tips and joint-folds showed apparently the least normal
intensity.1 Investigations must always be pursued under the same
conditions of temperature. Cold diminishes, warmth increases sen-
sibility. These factors are of far greater importance in the blind
than in the seeing. The * Tastzuckungen ' of the blind already
noticed by Tzermak are considered by the author as touch-move-
ments which have become involuntary. As in the sense of sight the
author distinguishes a ' direct ' and ' indirect ' touch, according as

1 Concerning this see von Prey's recently published works. Berichte d. Math.-
Phys. Classe d. Kon. Sachs. GeseUsch., d. Wiss. zu Leipzig. 1894-95.

532 PATHOLOGY.

the parts of the hand manifest touch-distinctions of the greatest or
less accuracy. The ' unschliessendes Tasten ' (enclosing touch ?),
which may be performed by one hand or both and in which there is
close union of outer and inner touch-sensations, serves for the
reception of magnitudes of three dimensions. Synthetic touch
transmits, however, only a scheme of objects, adequate representa-
tions can only be produced by aid of analytic touch. Instead of
Loeb's term: — 'Fuhlraum' of the hand, the author introduces the
expression: ' Tastraum (touch-space), which he divides into major
and minor touch-space (weiterer und engerer Tastraum), according to
the arm-lengths necessary for its measurement in all directions.
Minor touch-space is of the greatest importance in the production
of precise space-representation in the blind; for within it are all
conditions for synthetic as well as analytic touch. The measuring
instrument is here formed by thumb and fore-finger often supple-
mented by the middle finger. The one hand fixes the object to be
felt, the other performing the touch analysis, in which way the blind
obtain the representation of the parallel source of two lines, of their
convergence and divergence. The author further observed that the
estimation of distances by the blind is often exact to a millimeter.
The geometric-paptic illusions, observed in the blind by the author
and explained by him as analogous to those of sight according to
Wundt's theory, are highly interesting. The author disapproves the
use of large models in instructing the blind, and recommends close
adaptation of them to the relations of minor touch-space. Speaking
of the development of touch-space in the blind, the author refutes
the statement that the space-representation of the blind rests solely
on touch-movements, and while instancing the very various indi-
vidual development, once more emphasizes the fact that this spatial
touch arises first in minor touch-space, representations thus ob-
tained entering later into close relation with major touch-space.

II. On the association of sensations of touch and hearing. The state-
ment that the sense of hearing is the real localizing sense of the
blind, (so that, according to Preyer, Miinsterberg and Ktihnan, a
person born blind with the surface of the body anaesthetic would
acquire a complete space conception through impressions of hearing,
and again that normal subjects born blind range their touch impres-
sions in the hearing-space) is supported by the author only in so far
as it is understood to apply at the most to the conception of the
position of objects, or the direction of a sound-source, not to the
representation of the objects themselves. Judging from experiments
in which impressions of hearing were frequently erroneously local-

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 533

ized, (tone is in general oftener so than noises) the author designates
the existence of hearing-space independent of touch or sight-rep-
resentations as wholly illusory, proving further convincingly the
associative connections of hearing-impressions with those of the
sense of touch in the blind.

III. On the so-called distance-sense (Fernsinri) of the blind. These
sensations are of the greatest importance for the protection and self-
preservation of the blind. They do not depend on any special touch
quality, nor are they primarily peculiar to any particular portion of
the skin, only attaining their importance in the skin of the forehead
which is highly sensitive to alterations of pressure. The medium of
these sensations is the column of air between object and observer.
Perceptions of hearing enter, however, as a very important factor
into approach-sensations, but only bear the character of a signal-
stimulus.

IV. Surrogate-representations of the blind. The author accepts
this expression introduced by Hitschmann, designating a complex of
representations which are present in the mind of the blind together
with adequate representations and which are due; firstly, to a limited
conception of space, and secondly to the lack of color and light-
sensations. In accordance with these origins the author divides
surrogate-sensations into a first and second category, examining in
detail their importance in the intellectual life of the blind.

LEIPZIG. F. KIESOW.

NEW BOOKS.

Die Umwdlzung der Wahrnehmungshypothesen durch die mechanischt

Methode. H. SCHWARZ. Leipzig, Duncker u. Humblot, 1895.

Pp. XX +213. M. 9.
Frederick EdwardBeneke: The Man and his Philosophy. F. B.BRANDT.

New York, Macmillan & Co., 1895. Pp. 167.
Untersuchungen ilber die verschiedenen Moralsysteme. K. A. LEIMBACH.

Fulda, Actiendruckerei, 1895. Pp. VIII + 125.
Der Begriff des Erhabenen bei Burke und Kant. G. CANDREA.

Strassburg, Goelker, 1894. Pp. 80.
Studien sur B linden- Psychologie. TH. HELLER. In. Diss. Leipzig.

(Also in Philos. Studien). 1895. Pp. 130.
Thinking, Feeling, Doing. E. W. SCRIPTURE. Meadville, Pa.,

Flood & Vincent, Chautauqua Press, 1895. Pp. XII -f 304.
Untersuchungen iiber Farbeninduction. KR. B-R. AARS. Christiania,

Dybwad, 1895. Pp. 15.

534 NOTES.

Logik. W. WUNDT. Bd. II, Abth. 2. Logik der Geisteswissenschaften.

2te Auf. Stuttgart, Enk., 1895. M. 15.
German Kantian Bibliography. E. ADDICKS. The Philosophical Re-

view ; Supplement No. i. Pp. 253-380.
La Psychologic des Foules. G. LE BON. Paris, Alcan, 1895.
Les Lois psychologiques du Symbolisme. G. FERR^RO. Paris, Alcan,

Lokalisations-Psychologie : die Lokalisationstheorie angewandt auf psy-

chologische Probleme. G. HIRTH. With preface by L. Edinger.

2* Auf. Munich, Hirth, 1895. Pp. XXIV -f 112.
Einleitung in die Philosophic. O. KULPE. Leipzig, Hirzel, 1895.

Pp. VIII + 276. M. 4.
Die Schopfung des Menschen und seine Ideale. W. HAACKE. Jena,

Costenoble, 1895. Pp. X -f- 487. M. 12.

NOTES.

The death is announced of the distinguished Swiss philosopher,
Ch. Sacretan.

Prof. W. R. Newbold, of the University of Pennsylvania, has
become one of the associate editors of the American Naturalist.

Dr. J. H. Hyslop has been appointed Professor of Logic and
Ethics in Columbia College, New York.

Prof. Stumpf's article in this REVIEW for Jan., 1895, on Helm-
holtz and the New Psychology ', has been reprinted in the Archiv fur
die Geschichte der Philosophic.

Dr. J. Allen Gilbert, of Yale, has been made Assistant Professor
of Psychology at the University of Iowa. He will have charge of
the laboratory work, for which new rooms and appropriations have
recently been secured.

E. B. Titchener and J. E. Creighton have been made full pro-
fessors in the Sage School of Philosophy in Cornell University.

Professor Thomas Henry Huxley died on June 30.

In the Revue Philosophique for June, 1895, is to be found a long
and admirable account of the late Professor Charcot, by Professor
Pierre Janet, under the title ' J. M. Charcot ; son ceuvre psy-
chologique.'

We are informed that the earlier note in these pages (Vol. II, p.
328) to the effect that Professor Mach, formerly of Prague, had
been called to a chair in Psychology in the University of Vienna,
is incorrect. The chair which he assumes is that of ' History and
Theory of the Inductive Sciences.' Further, Dr. Hillebrand be-
comes Asst. Professor of Experimental Psychology at Vienna.

VOL. II. No. 6.

NOVEMBER, 1895.

THE PSYCHOLOGICAL REVIEW.

THE CONFUSION OF FUNCTION AND CONTENT
IN MENTAL ANALYSIS.1

BY DICKINSON S. MILLER,
Bryn Mavur College.

If we are not quite ready to say, with Heracleitus, that
strife is the father of all things, at least it is a familiar truth
that strife is the father of nearly all things that are good in
scientific discovery. A truth we do not all so clearly see is
that that unflagging controversy which is the life of a science
requires a basis or background of comity and order to be
truly productive. "We must be agreed upon the ground of
hostilities, upon the scene of action, upon the permitted
weapons of warfare, before our campaigns can settle any-
thing, or draw any definite frontier across the map of opin-
ion to divide knowledge from error. And one thing more
is needed if the best results are to issue from our disputa-
tion : the chances of war must be so narrowed and defined
that we know without chance of mistake when we are de-
feated. The celebrated virtue of the British soldier is noth-

i

ing better than a vice in the controversial engagements of
science.

The capital importance of this last condition is far too
little considered. The danger is a double one. The waste-
ful pertinacity that protracts discussion, when it ought to
be applying its results, is not worse than those premature

1 A paper read before the American Psychological Association in the session of
1893. I have not thought it needful to remove the traces it bears of the occasion of
Hs delivery.

535

536 DICKINSON S. MILLER.

surrenders that have checked progress so often of late in
such sciences as political economy, metaphysics and psy-
chology. For such a surrender withdraws from the contro-
versy an element of thought that should in its measure go to
the making of the final result. The empiricists among you
will not need to be reminded of the deplorable magnanimity
of J. S. Mill, which prompted him to such gratuitous con-
cessions of his father's principles, nor of how, the process
once begun, his own principles melted away in the hands of
his successors. If transcendentalism has almost fallen silent
/n Germany and empiricism forgotten at least its bolder
tones in England, it can hardly be in both cases because unbi-
ased reason has passed judgment.

Now, all these mischiefs of discussion are rife at the
present moment in psychology. To contribute to the con-
troversy is in many cases merely to contribute to the confu-
sion ; and, accordingly, it is well to turn to the more profit-
able business of defining that basis of agreement which is a
chief means of making disagreement fruitful.

Among those unsettled matters which are in their turn
unsettling to much besides, I take as one of the foremost
the relation of content and function in the analysis of mental
phenomena. There is a wide distinction here which in con-
temporary discussion is, as I think, too commonly obscured.
A mental state is significant, of course, to the psychologist,
not only for what it is, but for what it brings about ; but it
is widely assumed that what it brings about must in some
sort be visibly reflected in what it is — in its intrinsic charac-
ter. An idea has not only a particular « content ' ; it has
also a part to play in the mental life. It calls up other
ideas ; it influences the future course of thought or action.
Now, the confusion to which I refer consists in supposing
that mental causes, unlike physical, must themselves be an
index, by the internal evidence they offer, of the train of
consequences that they entail; that their function must be
wholly determined by their content, and that accordingly
their content is a sufficient key to their function. But this
assumption, which is not self-evident, is further, I believe,
entirely false.

FUNCTION AND CONTENT Iff MENTAL ANAL YS/S.

Instances of what I mean abound ; and I cannot bring the
matter before you better than by drawing attention to a suc-
cession of cases in which the confusion and its attendant mis-
chief are unmistakable.

The difficulties that figure in the time-worn dispute about
the nature of general and abstract ideas are familiar. How
can we employ our minds about a class of things if we are
not in possession of an express class-idea, distinct from any
idea whatever of concrete particulars? And yet how are
we to frame a notion of a horse, for example, which shall
represent neither a particular horse nor a collection of
horses, which shall have color, but neither black, brown, nor
any especial color; figure, but no one figure; size, but no
exact size? How can we disengage those abstract elements
common, as we say, to a class from the irrelevant particu-
larities in which they are embodied and in which alone they
exist. The difficulties of the problem are so obstinate that
neither the so-called nominalists nor the so-called concep-
tualists, as a party, rest securely upon definite formulas,
but covertly resorts at need to the language, if not the con-
ceptions, of the other. The two opposing doctrines, in the
strict extremity of their statement, seem the two horns of a
hopeless dilemma, and the manifold compromises combine
the difficulties of both.

Nor do these difficulties yield to the suggestion of Pro-
fessor Huxley, Professor Sully and others, that the generic
image may be a vague or blurred image, like a ' composite
photograph.' The suggestion completely misses the point
of the problem. A vague color or form, for instance, is a
particular visual phenomenon and corresponds neither to all
the colors or forms of its class (for it is single), nor to each
of them (for they are mostly not vague) ; and it seems equally
beside the mark to say that, although the conceptual image
presents only some particular, yet it is coupled with an in-
definable momentary ' sense of our meaning' which < refers'
the image to the whole class, and shows us how to ' inter-
pret ' and apply it. In order to mean a genus and not a par-
ticular, we must think of it, and how we can think of it is
the very thing that gravels us. The verb ' to mean/ which

538 DICKINSON S. MILLER.

repeatedly of late has masked the begging of a psychological
question, is in this case a somewhat thin disguise.

But there is a resort less unpromising. Are there not
really detachable psychic elements identical in kind in our
ideas of the different members of a class? To avoid irrele-
vant complications, consider at once a class of sensations or
sensory perceptions ; let us say the class of colors. One is
prompted to answer distinctly, No: there is assuredly no
identical element of « color ' discoverable alike in a shade of
pure red and a shade of pure green, regarded as sensations.
The two hues are « similar ' in so far as they are both colors,
but they are in no respect « the same;' they are not similar
by having each a little of some one psychic material. But
may not this answer be hasty ? May there not be, invariably
bound up with these colors in our perception and remem-
brance, some item of feeling incident to the physical process
of vision? And might not this element remain the same,
whatever color was before the eye, so that its presence
would come to characterize the whole class of colors? Ob-
serve the issues here at stake. We speak of visual sensa-
tions and auditory sensations, for example, as of two classes
self-evidently different — divided from each other by a broad
disparity of sensational complexion. Yet there is an obscu-
rity here. What is the tie of kinship between the color red
and the color green which does not exist between the color
red and the sound of a bell? We say the color and the
sound are obviously less alike than the two colors; but
wherein? Green and red are wholly and at all points dis-
tinct; how can red and the clang of the bell be more so?
You see how we are touching the whole broad problem that
Professor James and Professor Stumpf have discussed so
suggestively — the problem of the analyzable or unanalyzable
character of the sense of similarity. There are bold analysts
who would not stickle at saying that the so-called visual sen-
sations are thrown together into a class by the mere circum-
stance that they are acquired alike through the eye and the
auditory sensations by the mere circumstance that they are
acquired through the ear; the same applying to the other
senses. This does not mean that if the visual sensations, in

FUNCTION AND CONTENT IN MENTAL ANAL YS1S. 53$

themselves unchanged, should come through the ear they
would be assimilated at once to the present auditory sensa-
tions and appear no longer in any wise alike: a statement
which oversteps the bounds of sober discourse. It means
that what we now experience and remember as visual sensa-
tions contain within them an element of feeling, muscular,
perhaps, which is impartially the same in all. Now, if we
can extend this to all the senses, it certainly seems to throw
some illumination upon the problem of generic ideas; for
these elements of feeling when detached might form the
class-notions of the various sets of sensations on which they
attend. But clearly the theory cannot stop short at those
grand divisions that we call the senses. It must explain f
why dark blue and light blue, though really quite distinct
colors, appear intrinsically more alike than dark blue and
green; and so through a broad range of cases. Shall we
suppose that, besides the attendant sensation which charac-
terizes colors at large, there is a hierarchy of less general
attendant sensations, distinguishing classes and sub-classes
and still smaller groups until we come to the particular?
It is a somewhat violent hypothesis; yet nothing short of it
would seem to rescue us from the admission that there are
classes of mental facts whose members have no one element
in common.

And it is not only that the supposition strains our credu-
lity ; even on its own showing it does not really go far
enough to help us here. I hope you will bear with me if I
seem now and again to be too metaphysical in method.
Metaphysics was certainly not nominated in the bond for
this paper; but one can no more get a pound, nay an ounce,
of strictly accurate psychology without a few drops of what
some will call metaphysics than Shylock his covenanted
flesh without blood. Either these common elements, in the
case of colors, for instance, can be disengaged from the
special elements with which they are ordinarily blended, or
they cannot. If they cannot, we cannot form with them a
pure generic image. If they can, then we ought to be able
to imagine the residual quality of red or of green, apart
from the ' common element' which allies it to the rest of its

54O DICKINSON S. MILLER.

class; and we ought to find that, thus imagined, it no longer
shows likenesses or unlikenesses. For it would seem to be
clean against psychological analogy to hold that we could
extricate and isolate the common elements and yet not the
special ones. But manifestly no such disappearance of like-
nesses ever takes place. It is a disappearance we should be
quite at a loss to conceive.

I know that there are other replies that can be made to
my objections, as well as other objections to this theory that
could be advanced, but I believe the reply to be fallacious
and the other objections for our present purpose needless.
So far — perhaps too long — I have thought it necessary to
dwell upon this conception by way of clearing ground.
Having pointed out what seems to me its fatal weakness, I
must pass on. In this brief compass I cannot attempt to
prove my suggestions to the bitter end ; I can do but a little
more than lay them before you.

If I am right, then, this last resource of conceptualism is
unable to sustain that doctrine, which accordingly must fall
to the ground. That is to say, the tenet that a single men-
tal state can by its content represent what are called the
abstract qualities common to a class, cannot stand. But
those who are perplexed by this outcome forget that there
is another sense in which a mental state can represent a
class. It can represent a class by its function, by the conse-
quences it produces; not by what it is, but by what it does.
An image with particular content can do duty as the repre-
sentative of a class. By its psychical connections, in a word
by its associations, it can prompt the right action towards
the members of the class and inhibit any false thoughts
about them.

Consider some of the critical cases. 1 assert of an object
that it is red: ' The book is red.' The word ' the' implies
that certain peculiarities of the book, perhaps its size, shape
and position, are already known to you ; but it is out of
sight, and I am informing you of its color. Now, some
psychologists would tell us that in thinking my sentence,
' the book is red,' you are affixing in thought to an object in
part previously known an abstract property or ' universal '

FUNCTION AND CONTENT IN MENTAL ANAL YSIS. 541

also previously known. This is pure conceptualism. Oth-
ers— some of the older Associationist schools, to wit — hold
that we are seeing the book with the mind's eye, as similar
to imagined red objects and as contrasted with imagined
objects of another color. Judgment they regard, in accord-
ance with the alleged psychological law of relativity, as
involving comparison and contrast. But what shall hinder
us from supposing — so far in agreement with the fine analy-
sis of judgment contained in Professor Benno Erdmann's
Logik — that we simply fill out our previous vaguer image of
the book by imagining it as red — that shade of red which
the word, used in connection with the word book, first calls
to our mind. Previously we had conceived it with a toler-
ably specific size and shape, but the color was vague, dull
and shifting. Now we conceive it a distinct red. The
shade of red may need correction when we see the book,
but meantime we have in such wise completed our image
that we can use the word red of the book with security, —
enable a servant, perhaps, to distinguish and bring it, or a
child to avoid touching it. And this is clearly a typical
case.

Thus, as regards a multitude of instances, we have got
rid of the psychological abstract altogether, and have seen
that the particular image, though perhaps imperfectly re-
sembling the objectMn point of content, yet duly performs
the function of guiding our action towards it, and of sum-
moning at needj the correct word. I may remind you that
the word ' book/ as well as the word ' red,' called up a per-
fectly concrete, though probably a blurred or fragmentary
or shifting, vision. The other cases show no essentially
different process. Suppose I employ an abstract or generic
term at large, as one may say. Suppose I ask: 'Do you
prefer red or blue in bookbinding?' Before answering you
compare in imagination a series of particular colors associ-
ated with the word red with a series of particular colors asso-
ciated with the word blue. It would be idle, even were it
possible, to compare generic red with generic blue, for your
preference may be only for one especial shade. Here you
see my deliberation is guided aright, because the word red

542 DICKINSON S. MILLER.

and the word blue duly perform their function of calling up
the two ranges of colors with which they are severally as-
sociated: My understanding of the question and my cor-
rect answer depend mainly on the function, not the content,
of some of my ideas. Suppose, again, that I lay down * a
general proposition:' 'all bright-colored books are easily
soiled.' As an acute friend of mine once remarked, the
mental process is better expressed by saying, *Any bright-
colored book is easily soiled.' For what does the hearer
(and with some modifications the speaker) mentally do in the
matter ? He runs hastily over a few cases — of bright-
colored books long kept. If the associations thus started
bring up a contrary instance, an instance, let us say, of such
a book remaining untarnished under much handling, the
' general proposition ' is rejected ; that is, it does not become
a belief, and the associations of its words do not serve as
guides. If, however, all the instances are conformable, it
may become a belief. I submit that the word ' all ' in such
propositions has no specific mental content whatever; that
its force is merely to set the mind running over instances of
the connection of ideas suggested by the rest of the proposi-
tion, and to make the proposition stand or fall as a belief,
according to the harmony or discord of that connection of
ideas with any instance whatever that the mental quest may
find. The word ' all' — I mean the word as a mental phe-
nomenon, the perception or idea of its sight, sound or articu-
lation— is there for its function and not for its content.
Virtually any other content would serve just as well if its
function were the same. " Nothing," says Professor James,
in the chapter on Conception in his * Principles of Psychol-
ogy/ "can give us the thought of ' all the possible mem-
bers ' of a class," but " an altogether special bit of conscious-
ness ad hoc." And this ' bit of consciousness ' is a transitive
feeling, a mere ' sense of our meaning ; ' it belongs to the
1 fringe ' of thought. But surely the smallness of this mod-
est bit of consciousness does not excuse it from the obliga-
tion of being intelligible. Even such a very small l bit '
cannot, in the long run, escape the eye of the psychological
inspector; and if it should turn out to be carrying concealed

FUNCTION AND CONTENT IN MENTAL ANAL YSIS. 543

on its little person all the contraband assumptions of an unan-
alytic Conceptualism, it would go hard indeed. Do not mis-
take my meaning. Indisputably such transitive forms of
consciousness exist and have important functions. But their
importance depends on their appointed sequel, on what they
bring after them in the mental train ; not on the inward sig-
nificance and essence of their ' altogether special ' selves.
In content they may be the merest chaff and trumpery of
consciousness — the feeling of some momentary tension of the
skin or twitch of a muscle. Is it anything but what Mr.
James so aptly terms ' the psychologist's fallacy ' to suppose
that such transitive feelings must needs foresee their sequel
and consciously lead to it? Is not this a signal example of
the confusion between function and content? l

I said that the universal proposition might become a
belief. The psychological condition that we call belief
affords as good a case as one could have to enforce the dis-
tinction I am making. The current theories as to the nature
of belief fall naturally into three classes. Descartes and
Spinoza, and in recent times Professor Bain and Professor
Bergmann, would assimilate it to the phenomena of volition.
J. S. Mill and Professors Brentano, James, and Windelband
may be named among those who regard belief as a form of
consciousness sui generis, and not to be analyzed. Accord-
ing to thinkers of both these classes, the distinguishing char-
acteristic of belief is to be found in the content of the mental
state so named.

But there has been at the same time an altogether differ-
ent course of thought on the topic. James Mill analyzed
assent as an < indissoluble association.' When I regard a
certain conjunction of phenomena as the actual conjunction,

1 It has been convenient to take instances from a work certain to be familiar to
all psychologists and serious students of psychology. Meanwhile it is as well to add
that most of the chief theses of this paper are identical or allied with those of an arti-
cle by Professor James on ' The Function of Cognition,' Mind, Vol. X, and of such
passages in his 'Psychology' as that on pp. 267-70, Vol. I. Professor James has
made acknowledgment to myself in his Presidential Address, published last March
in this REVIEW, for ' reconfirming ' by the paper now printed his ' sometime waver-
ing opinion.' My gratification at finding that my endeavors have been so blessed is
greatly heightened by the sense that out of a hundred debts that cannot in sum b«
paid or measured, I have in one case been able to render him his own.

"544 DICKINSON S. MILLER.

it means that the phenomena maintain to my mental vision
that especial relation unaltered whenever I think of the mat-
ter. But in his notes on James Mill's « Analysis of the Hu-
man Mind,' John Stuart Mill pointed out that this is not
invariably the case. I believe that the World building — to
take a homely instance — rises there at the corner of Park
Row and Frankfort street. Yet I can conceive it away.
I can in imagination, if I so choose, station a Greek temple
'Or a Gothic cathedral on the spot. Clearly, then, the asso-
ciation is not indissoluble. This answer seemed final. But
a new theory has been formed out of the ruins of James
Mill's which sustains attack more successfully, as I think,
than any other in the field. I refer to that of Mr. Alfred
Hodder, which it is to be hoped the author will soon be
moved to publish. By his account of the matter, a belief
is a conceived conjunction of phenomena in which the ele-
ments can indeed be torn apart by an effort of will, but
in which, if left to themselves, they remain in the same posi-
tion ; the degree of the belief being proportional to the ten-
dency of the elements to maintain or, if deliberately sepa-
rated, to resume this position. Compared with Mill's
definition, this theory makes it, not an indissoluble, but a
spontaneous, association of ideas. The cohesion of the con-
ceived elements may be likened to the elasticity of a strap
of india-rubber. The strap can indeed be drawn out sur-
prisingly far; but once relax the effort and it flies back at
once to its natural dimensions. So precisely with our case
of belief. I can, by some exercise of will, fancy a temple or
a cathedral where the World building now stands; but no
sooner do I cease to put forth the voluntary exertion than
the poetic vision vanishes, and the hard prose of the news-
paper building stands there to the mind's eye as remorse-
lessly as ever.

I hold that this analysis of belief withstands objection
better than any other offered to us. I have heard it urged,
for instance, on the other side, that though we believe the
earth to revolve round the sun, yet so far from that being
the form the relation spontaneously takes to our mind, it is
only with the greatest pains that we can imagine anything

FUNCTION AND CONTENT IN MENTAL ANAL YSIS. 545

else but that the sun goes round the earth. But this argu-
ment is entirely ineffective. For the purposes of daily life,
I do imagine the sun rising and setting over the broad earth,
and that is at such moments my belief. But when I am
thinking of the planetary balls rolling in space (the concep-
tion with which education has familiarized me), then I spon-
taneously fall to conceiving the ball I call the earth revolv-
ing round that I call the sun. The conception of daily life
does duty for the concerns of daily life ; but it gives place
to a totally different conception the moment an astronomical
point of view suggests itself. It is hard, no doubt, to think
of the earth as a sphere revolving in space, hard to realize
the astronomical view ; but when I once fairly do this, the
earth begins of itself as it were, in my imagination, to re-
volve round the sun.

If I am right in deeming this theory of belief the best
working hypothesis in the field (much virtue in that ' if,'
you will say, but after all I can do no better in my brief
space than suggest lines of argument, not carry them fully
out) — if this theory holds its ground against the others, you
see it is a triumph of those who find the distinguishing mark
of belief not at all in the content or matter of the ideas pres-
ent, but wholly in their mode of behavior, as one may say, —
in their influence in preserving each other in firm associa-
tion; in fine, in their properties or function.

By way at once of pointing and of summing up what I
have said about this confusion in the subject of abstract and
generic ideas, let me take an exceptionally difficult case. In
the extremely careful work of Professor Goswin Uphues, of
Halle, recently published — Die Psychologic des Erkennens —
he deals once more with the old puzzle as to how our con-
ception of * nothing ' can at once be a real idea possessed of
a genuine content, and yet truly represent nonentity. Even
Professor Uphues' answer, scrupulously reasoned and pre-
cisely stated as it is, does not, to my thinking, deliver us
from the ultimate difficulties of the problem. I cannot un-
derstand how we can have a genuine idea of nothing if the
content of an idea is the only sign of what it represents. I
<io not see how an idea by its intrinsic character can accu-

5 46 DICKINSON S. MILLER.

rately portray — nothing. But if we may look to its function
also, the explanation is plain. If I believe that a certain
room has nothing in it, I think of the empty interior of it —
the bare walls and clear floor; and the mind, or if you will
the brain, is so set, as we say of a trap, that any thought of
an object in the room is promptly negatived so soon as it
presents itself. My belief that there is nothing in the room,
is not constituted by my mere picture of a vacant room, but
by the spontaneous self-maintenance of that picture in my
mind, and the instant rejection, that is, failure to coalesce
with the picture, and hence usually disappearance, of any
intruding thought of contents. But we have conceptions of
a more absolute 'nothing.' Take the belief that before a
certain time nothing existed in space. In that case the pic-
ture of space empty at that time comes before the mind, and
our habitual tendency to imagine it filled is checked as often
as it shows itself. It may be objected, however, that you
cannot conceive space except by virtue of there being some-
thing in it; that a strictly empty space excludes even the
blue or gray background of atmosphere or cloud. Well, I
do not wish to prejudge the question how far the visual ele-
ment is necessary, as this objection supposes it, to the notion
of space, and so I pass on to the extremest instance of non-
entity within the bounds of thought. Let the belief be that
before a certain date there existed absolutely nothing,,
neither matter nor space, angel nor spirit — not even the
locus of a world. The content of my thought, which was first
the empty room and then the void space (supposing the latter
content possible), now disappears completely. Does the
possibility of conceptions or belief disappear with it? By no
means. What we call our belief in such a thoroughgoing
nonentity is simply an attitude of the mind in which it stands
ready to down any rising image of existent things as at that
time in the world. Our belief is a state of standing indis-
position on the mind's part to entertain any ideas of a cer-
tain character. Here you see the verbal sign has (save its^
(sight, sound, or articulation) no 'content,' no correspon-
sive mental image at all. Its content is swallowed up im
its function. Do not tell me that this is ' the grin with-

FUNCTION AND CONTENT IN MENTAL ANAL YSIS. 547

out the cat' of popular fable. In truth it is, like the ' poten-
tial energy ' of the physicist, a prophecy or promise — in this
<;ase a negative promise ; namely, such a state of tendency in
the mind as insures the prompt suppression of any intrud-
ing thoughts of a certain order.

Notice in all this how far one goes astray when one as-
sumes that language in its structure is in any sort whatever
the copy or the homologue of thought. In language the
predicate comes after the subject; in thought they come
together. In language they are connected by a copula; but
there is no copula in thought. There are indeed no verbs in
thought. In thought there are but pictures, painted in the
pigments of the different senses — picture supplanting picture
in endless substitution. 'Action' and 'activity' are but the
names we give to certain sequences in the melting and merg-
ing pictures as they pass. To speak of an action of the mind
or the Ego, of an activity of consciousness itself, when at-
tempting the language of analytic psychology, is to use an
inept and unhelpful metaphor. Psychological study impresses
us ever afresh with the lesson that language is a mere system
of signals, dependent for its form and order on the structure
and convenience of a bodily organ. Were we Hydra-headed
or had we a hundred tongues, words might go abreast, might
group themselves in a thousand new fashions, and thus in
some respects more nearly take the shape of thought. But
the broadest disparities — such as those which this discussion
has made prominent — would still remain. Not long ago I
stood on the bridge of a vessel which was signaling a light-
house. The captain signaled with Coston lights and Roman
candles. Now, it would be no more absurd to suppose that
the captain's ideas thus expressed were related together as
the Coston lights and the Roman candles than to take the
grammatical form of the proposition for an outward and
visible copy of the order of thought.

I now come to the subject in which the confusion of con-
tent and function has worked the most subtle and far-reach-
ing harm; I mean the psychology of perception. It is the
function of what we call our sense-perceptions to stand for

548 DICKINSON S. MILLER.

certain objective facts,1 to stand for them in such wise as to
guide our action in deference to them. These sense-percep-
tions must so play their parts that we do not fall into a pit,
or walk off a precipice into thin air, or knock our fragile
heads against a wall. Now things are so ordered, as we be-
lieve (let us not pry into the philosophical reasons of it here)
that our perceptions do us this service by resembling the ob-
jective facts. To be sure it is common to make exceptions
to this in certain items, color, taste, odor, etc. — but lay all
that here aside. The pertinent fact is this : we find it by
many assumed that this function must be inscribed as it were
in the content of the perceptions themselves; that they must
exhibit a conscious intent to represent outer objects as a
portrait represents a man. In the portrait's case, of course,
it is we who, looking on the man and on the painting, ascribe
to the one the function of representing the other. But
imagine if you can a portrait which shall be itself visibly
possessed with the purpose of being like some person, and
you have the parallel of what these thinkers ascribe to cer-
tain mental states. This is what I call looking for the func-
tion in the content; and I regard it as a forlorn quest due to
a confusion. Those experiences that we name color and
touch and resistance and the like are veritably there, and
they guide our daily living ; but they do not — touch and re-
sistance no more than color — set up the absurd pretension of
getting out of themselves or profess to reveal anything but
their own intrinsic form and character. How we can know,
if this be true, that they answer in some sort to a world be-
yond them is a question whose answer, plain and sufficient
as I conceive it to be, does not belong to a psychological
inquiry.

I know it was maintained yesterday2 that the whole of
this topic of our perceptive knowledge is outside the pale
of psychology and lies on philosophical land. Professor

I 1 may not detain the reader for any metaphysical amplification or defence of
these insufficient terms. But it will not be wholly useless to avail myself of the
broad shelter of ' idealism ' — to mention that my view is among those covered by that
somewhat vague and varying name.

3 See Professor G. S. Fullerton's Address on 'The Psychological Standpoint,'
published in this REVIEW, Jan. 1894.

FUNCTION AND CONTENT IN MENTAL ANAL YSIS. 549.

Fullerton, as you remember, erected a tall fence between
the two, and gave us a concrete example of the relentless-
ness with which trespassers will be prosecuted. Well, defi-
nitions and exclusions are easy. I shall not make a new
fence, and return railing for railing, as Dr. Arnold once
said, by way of proving that the problem of perception be-
longs to psychology and not to metaphysics. I know that
it belongs to both spheres. Psychology includes all mental
facts, and if certain forms of consciousness purport to tell us of
other things outside themselves, the fact of their so purport-
ing is a mental fact and lies manifestly within the purview of
psychology. I believe it, however, not to be a fact, but one
of the most singular fictions in the history of thought. To-
my thinking this 'self-transcendence,' ' transubjective refer-
ence' and all the handsome phrases devoted to its service
find no better warrant in introspection than they find counte-
nance in logic. Obviously, I cannot stop to prove this in
the dwindling residue of my time. I can only remark that
if I am right (again an if of much virtue) we have here the
source of certain modes of conceiving mental fact which have
spread confusion through the terminology and thought of
our science. For example, if we confound the function and
the content of a knowing mental state, if we read the func-
tion into the content and say the mental state means to know,
then immediately we must conceive of the mental state as an
act, or an act with its results. Our would-be scientific
language insensibly falls into metaphors taken from speech
or painting in order to describe it, and says that it reports
or pictures things out of consciousness. Then we grow used
to speaking of the pictures on one hand and the picturing
process on the other, as though the mind consisted of a stere-
opticon and a screen on which views are cast. We distin-
guish the thinking and the thing thought, or the feeling and
the quality felt, or the thought and its mental object (which
is 'what the thought thinks') or, with certain Germans, das
Vorstellen and das Vorgestellte; all these terms meaning to
refer to psychological and none of them to physical facts.
And then, after all, as we look upon consciousness it seems
to present a single and not a double face ; and we proceed

550 DICKINSON S. MILLER.

to say, perhaps, with Professor Benno Erdmann : only das
Vorgestellte is immediately given; the Vorstellensvorgang is
inferred. Or we say with Professor James : only the objects
are immediately given ; the feelings themselves, the states of
consciousness, might even conceivably be doubted. I submit
that all this cleavage and distinction, together with these
wonderful consequences, vanishes utterly away when we
cease mixing content with function. For then we see, if I
may for the moment use terms I reject, that the feeling as
distinguished from the felt qualities is indeed an out-and-out
fiction, and that the Vorstellensvorgang is falsely inferred.
There is neither mental ' object ' ideally projected from a
' state of consciousness ' nor * state of consciousness ' en-
dowed with the property of projecting it. State of con-
sciousness and mental object, idea and content, are one.

THE ORIGIN OF A 'THING' AND ITS NATURE.1

BY PROFESSOR J. MARK BALDWIN,
Princeton University,

The present growing interest in genetic problems, as
well as the current expectation that these discussions may
render it necessary that certain great beliefs of our time be
overhauled — these things make it important that a clear view
should be reached of the sphere of inquiry in which ques-
tions of origin may legitimately be asked, and also just what
bearing their answer is to have upon the results of the an-
alytic study of philosophy.

We already have, in several recent publications, the in-
quiry opened under the terms ' origin vs. reality ' — or, in an
expression a little more sharp in its epistemological meaning,
1 origin vs, validity.' I should prefer, in the kind of inquiry
taken up in this paper, to give a wider form to the antithesis
marked out, and to say ' origin vs. nature ' : meaning to ask
a series of questions all of which may be brought under the
general distinction between the ' how* of the question: how
a thing arose or came to be what it is ; and the ' what ' of the
question : what a thing is.

Well, first, as to ' what.' Let us see if any answer to the
question « what is it?' can be reached, adequate to our needs,
in any case of genetic inquiry. It seems that the philosophy
of to-day is pretty well agreed to start analysis of a thing
inside of the behavior of the thing. A ' thing ' is first of all
so much observed behavior. Idealists pass quickly over the
behavior, it is true ; it is too concrete, too single, for them :
it is not to them a thing, but a ' mere thing.' But yet they
do not any longer allow this « mereness ' to offend them to
the extent of drawing them off to other fields of exploration

1 Notes presented to the Princeton Psychological Seminar in May, 1895, slightly
revised.

551

552 J. MARK BALDWIN.

altogether. They try to overcome the ' mereness ' by mak-
ing it an incident of a larger fullness : and the ' implications '
of the thing, the ' meaning ' of it ' in a system ' — this shows
up the mereness, both in its own insignificance and in its
fruitful connection with what is universal.

So we may safely say of the idealist, that if he get a doc-
trine of a ' thing/ it must, he will himself admit, not be of
such a thing that it cannot take on the particular form of
behavior which the one * mere thing ' under examination is
showing at the moment. There must, in short, be no con-
tradiction between the ' real thing ' and the special instance
of it which is found in the •' mere thing.'

He, the idealist, therefore, is first of all a phenomenist in
getting his doctrine of the real ; the • what ' must be, when
empirically considered, in some way an outburst of behavior.

Now the idealist is the only man, I think, of whom there
is any doubt in the matter of this doctrine of behavior,
except the natural realist, who comes up later. Others hold
it as a postulate since Lotze, and later Bradley, did so con-
clusively show the absurdity of the older uncritical view
which held, in some form or another, what I may call the
' lump ' theory of reality. A thing can not be simply a lump.
Even in matter — so we are now taught by the physicists —
there are no lumps. To make a thing a lump — not to cite
other objections to it — would be to make it impossible that
we should know it as a thing. So all those doctrines which
I have classed as other than idealistic accept, and have an
interest in defending, the view that the reality of a thing is
presented in its behavior.

So setting that down as the first answer to the ' what '
question, we may profitably expand it a little. The more we
know of behavior of a certain kind, then the more we know
of reality, or of the reality, at least, which that kind of beha-
vior is. And it is evident that we may know more of beha-
vior in two ways. We may know more of behavior because
we take in more of it at once ; this depends on the basis of
knowledge we already have — the relative advance of science
in description, explanation, etc., upon which our interpreta-
tion of the behavior before us rests. In the behavior of a

THE ORIGIN OF A ' THING' AND ITS NA TURE. 553

bird which flits before him, a child sees only a bright object
in motion ; that is the « thing ' to him. But when the bird
flits before a naturalist, he sees a thing whose behavior ex-
hausts about all that is known of the natural sciences. Yet
in the two cases there is the * thing,' in just about the same
sense.

When we come, farther, to approach a new thing, we
endeavor, in order to know what it is, to find out what it is
doing, or what it can do in any artificial circumstances which
we may devise. Just as far as it does nothing, or as far as
we are unable to get it to do anything, just so far we confess
ignorance of what it is. We can neither summon to the
understanding of it what we have found out about the beha-
viour of other things, nor can we make a new class of reali-
ties or things to put it in. All analysis is just the finding
out of the different centers of behavior which a whole given
outburst includes. And the whole, if unanalyzable to any
degree, is itself a thing, rather than a collection of things.

But the second aspect of a thing's reality is just as im-
portant. Behavior means in some way change. Our lump
would remain a lump, and never become a thing, if, to adhere
to our phenomenal way of speaking, it did not pass through
a series of changes. A thing must have a career; and the
length of its career is of immediate interest. We get to
know the thing not only by the amount of its behavior,
secured by examining a cross-section, so to speak, but also
by the increase in the number of these sections which we are
able to secure. The successive stages of behavior are neces-
sary in order really to see what the behavior is. This fact
underlies the whole series of determinations which ordinarily
characterize things, such as cause, change, growth, develop-
ment, etc., as comes out farther below.

The strict adherence to the definition of a thing in terms
of behavior, therefore, would seem to require that we waited
for the changes in any case to go through a part at least of
their progress — for the career to be unrolled, that is, at least
in part. Immediate description gives, as far as it is truly
immediate, no science, no real thing with any richness of
content ; it gives merely the snap-object of the child. And

554 J. MARK BA LD Wlti.

if this is true of science, of every-day knowledge of things,
to live by, how much more of the complete knowledge of
things desiderated by philosophy? It would be an interest-
ing task to show that each general aspect of the « what ' in
nature has arisen upon just such an interpretation of the
salient aspects presented in the career of individual things in
nature. But this would be to write a large and most difficult
chapter of genetic philosophy.

Our second point in regard to the ' what,' therefore, is
that any « what' whatever is in large measure made up of
judgments based upon experiences of the ' how.' The fun-
damental concepts of philosophy reflect these categories
of origin, both in their application to individuals — to the
' mere thing ' — and also in the interpretation which they have
a right to claim : for they are our mental ways of dealing with
what is « mere ' on one hand and of the final reading of real-
ity which philosophy makes its method. Of course the ques-
tion may be asked: How far, origin? That is, how far back
in the career of the thing it is necessary to go to call the
halting-place ' origin.' This we may well return to lower
down ; the point here is that origin is always a reading of
part of the very career which is the content of the concept
of the nature of the thing.

Coming now closer to particular instances of the ' what/
and selecting the most refractory case that there is in the
world, let us ask these questions concerning the mind. I
select this case because, in the first place, it is the case
urgently pressing upon us; and, second, because it is the
case in which there seems to be, if anywhere, a gaping dis-
tinction between the * what' and the « how.' Modern evolu-
tion claims to discuss the « how ' only, not to concern itself
with the 'what;' or, again, it claims to solve the 'what'
entirely by its theory of the ' how.' To these claims what
shall we say?

From our preceding remarks it seems evident that the
nature of mind is its behavior generalized ; and, further, that
this generalization necessarily implicates more or less of the
history of mind ; that is, more or less of the career which

THE ORIGIN OF A ' THING' AND ITS NATURE. $55

discloses the 'how' of mind. What further can be said of
it as a particular instance of reality?

A most striking fact comes up immediately, when we
begin to consider mental and with it biological reality. The
fact of growth, or to put the fact on its widest footing, the
fact of organization. The changes in the external world
which constitute the career of a thing, and so show forth its
claim to be considered a thing, fall under some very wide
generalizations, such as those of chemistry, mechanics, etc. ;
and when the examination of the thing's behavior has secured
its description under these principles in a pretty exhaustive
way, we say the thing is understood. But the things of life,
and the series of so-called organic changes which unroll its
career, are not yet so broadly statable. When we come to
mind, again, we find certain pretty well made out generaliza-
tions of its behavior. But here, as in the case of life, the
men who know most have not a shadow of the complacency
with which the physicist and the chemist categorize their
material. It is for this reason, I think, in part, that the dif-
ference between the two cases gets its emphasis, and the anti-
thesis between origin and nature seems so necessary in one
case while it is never raised in the other. For who ever
heard a natural science man say that the resolution of a
chemical compound into its elements, thus demonstrating the
elements and law of the origin of the ' thing ' analyzed, did
not solve the question of its nature, as far as science can state
a solution of that question?

But we can not say that the whole difference is one of
greater modesty on the part of the psychologists. The facts
rather account for their modesty. And the prime fact is one
formulated in more or less obscurity by many men, begin-
ning with Aristotle : the fact, namely, that organization con-
sidered as itself a category of reality never reaches universal
statement in experience. To confine the case at first to vital
phenomena, we may say that to subsume a .plant or animal
under the category of organization is to make it at once to a
degree an X : a form of reality which, by right of this very
subsumption, predicts for itself a phase of behavior as yet
unaccomplished — gives a prophecy of more career, as a fact.

J. MARK BALDWIN.

but gives no prophecy (apart from other information which
we may have) of the new phase of career in kind. Every
vital organization has part of its career yet to run. If it has
no more career yet to run, it is no longer an organization : it
is then dead. It then gets its reality exhausted by the pre-
dication of the categories of chemistry, mechanics, etc.,
which construe all careers retrospectively. A factor of the
biological and mental categories alike is just this element of
what I have called elsewhere ' Prospective Reference.'1 In
biology it is the fact of * Accommodation : ' in psychology
it is the same fact found in all cases of Selection — most acute
in Volition.

And it does not matter how the content in any particular
filling up of the category may be construed after it takes on
the form of accomplished fact — after, i. e., it becomes a mat-
ter of 'retrospect.' All constructions in terms ol content
mean the substitution of the retrospective categories for those
of prospect; that is, the construction of an organization
after it is dead, or — what amounts to the same thing — by
analogy with other organizations which have run down, or
died, in our experience. Suppose, for example, we take the
construction of the category of Accommodation, in each par-
ticular instance of it, in terms of the ordinary biological law
of natural selection — an attempt made by the present writer
under the statement of so-called ' Organic Selection ' 2 — and
so get a statement of how an organism actually got any one
of the special adaptations of its mature personal life. What,
then, have we done? I think it is evident that we have
simply resorted to the * retrospective ' reference ; we have
changed our category in the attempt to get a concrete filling
for a particular case after it has happened. To adopt the
view that the category of organization can be in every case
filled up with matter, in this way, does not in any sense de-
stroy the prospective element in the category of organization ;
for the psychological subtlety still remains in mind in the

lSee my Mental Development: Methods and Processes (Macmillan & Co.),
Chaps. VII, XI.

'In accordance with which the organism's new accommodations are selected out of
movements excessively produced under pleasure-pain stimulation. Ibid. pp. 174 f.

THE ORIGIN OF A • THING* AND ITS NA TURE. 557

doing of it, either that the event must be awaited to deter-
mine the outcome, and that I am agreeing with myself and
my scientific friends to wait for it, or that we are solving
this case by others for which we did wait. A good instance
of our mental subtleties in such cases is seen in the category
of 4 potentiality,' considered lower down. The extreme
case of the reduction of the categories of prospective refer-
ence to those of retrospect, is evidently the formula for
probabilities. I do not see how that formula can escape
being considered a category of retrospect, applied to mate-
rial which does not admit of any narrower or more special
retrospective formulation.

Now the inference from this is that our predicate ' real-
ity,' in certain cases, is not adequately expressed in terms of
the experienced behavior of so-called real content. The very
experience on the basis of which we are wont to predicate
reality testifies to its own inadequacy. I see no way to avoid
the alternatives that either the notion of reality does not
rest upon experiences of behavior, or that the problematic
judgments based upon those experiences of progressive or-
ganization which we know currently under the term develop-
ment, are as fundamental to these kinds of reality as are those
more static judgments based on history or origin.

It may be well, in view of the importance of this conclu-
sion, to see something more of its bearings in philosophy.
The historical theories of design, or teleology in nature, have
involved this question. And those familiar with the details
of the design arguments pro and con will not need to have
brought to mind the confusion which has arisen from the
mixing up of the 'prospective' and 'retrospective' points
of view. Design, to the mind of many of the older theistic
writers, was based upon relative unpredictibility — or better,
infinite improbability. Such an argument looks forward : it
is reasoning in the category of organization, but under the
4 prospective ' reference. The organization called mental
must be appealed to. What, was asked, is the probability
of the letters of the Iliad falling together so as to read out
the Iliad? The opponents, on the other hand, have said:
Why is not the Iliad combination as natural as any other?

558 J. MARK BALDWIN.

One combination has to happen ; what is to prevent this? If
a child who cannot read should throw the letters, the Iliad
combination is no more strange to him than any other. These
men are reasoning in the retrospective categories. They are
interpreting facts. The fault of the latter position is that it
fails to see in reality the element of higher organization
which the whole series when looked at from the point of
view of the real Iliad requires. What would really happen,
if the child should throw the Iliad combination, would be
that nature had produced a second time a combination once
before produced (in the mind of Homer, and through him in
ours) without fulfilling all the other combinations — an infinite
number — which have a right to be fulfilled before the Iliad
combination be reproduced. But this added element of organ-
ization needed to bring nature into accord with thought and
which the postulate of design makes in reaching a Designer —
this is not needed from the mere historical or reprospective
examination of the facts. In other words, if the opponents
of design are right in holding to a complete reduction of or-
ganization to retrospective categories, they ought to be able
to say just as definitely that the Iliad combination will happen
in a certain number of throws, as they are to say afterwards
that it has happened.

The later arguments for design, therefore, which tend to
identify it with organization, and to see in it, so far as it
differs from natural law, simply a harking forward to that
career of things which is not yet unrolled, but which when
completely unrolled will be a part of the final statement of
origins in terms of natural law — this general view has the
justification of as much criticism as has now been stated.

And, further, it is clear that the two opposed views of
adaptation in nature are both genetic views — instead of
being, as is sometimes thought, one genetic (that view which
interprets the adaptation after it has occurred), and the
other analytic or intuitive (that view which seeks a before-
hand construction of design). The former of these is usually
accredited to the evolution theory; and properly so, see-
ing that the evolutionist constantly looks backward. But
the other view, the design view, is equally genetic. For

THE ORIGIN OF A ' THING' AND ITS NA TURE. 559>

the category of higher or mental organization by which it
proceeds is just as distinctly an outcome of the movement
or drift of experience toward an interpretation of career in
terms of history. Teleology, then, when brought to its
stronghold, is a genetic outcome, and owes what force it has
to the very point of view that its most fervent advocates —
especially its theological advocates — are in the habit of run-
ning down. The consideration of the stream of genetic his-
tory itself, no less than the attempt to explain the progress
of the world as a whole, its career, leads us to admit that
the real need of thinking of the future in terms of organiza-
tion is as great as the need of thinking of the past in terms
of natural law. The need of so-called mental organization or
design is found in the inadequacy of natural law to explain
the further career of the world, and its past career also, as
soon as we go back to any place in the past and ask the same
question there. It would be possible, also, to take up the
last remark for more thought, and to make out a case for the
proposition that the categories of ' retrospective ' thinking
also involve a strain of organization — a proposition which is
equivalent to one which the idealists are forcibly urging from
other grounds and from another point of view. Lotze's ar-
gument to an organization at the bottom of natural causation
has lost nothing of its power. Viewed as a category of
experience, I am unable to see the force of the assumption
tacitly made by the Positivists, and as tacitly admitted by
their antagonists, that causation is to be ultimately viewed
entirely under such retrospective constructions as ' conserva-
tion of energy,' etc. Such constructions involve an endless
retrospective series. And that is to say that the problem of
origin is finally insoluble. Well, so it may be. But yet one
may ask why this emphasis of the ' retrospective,' which has
arisen in experience with just the basis of experience that
the ' prospective' also has? It may be a matter of taste; it
may be a matter of ' original sin.' But if we go on to try to
unite our categories of experience in some kind of a broader
logical category, the notion of the Ultimate must, it would
seem, require both of the aspects which our conception of
reality includes ; the ' prospective ' no less than the ' retro-

560 J. MARK BALDWIN.

f spective.' Origins must take place continually as truly as

\ must sufficient reasons. The only way to avoid this is to say

J that reality has neither forward nor backward reference. So

v say the idealists in getting thought which is not in time.

/ But be that as it may, we are dealing with experience —

L though for myself, I must say, thought which looks neither

backward nor forward is no thought at all.

Another subtlety might raise its head in the inquiry
whether in their origin all the categories did not have their
* natural history/ If so, it might be said, we are bound, in
the very fact of thinking at all, to give exclusive recognition
to the historical aspect of reality. But here is just the ques-
tion : does the outcome of career to date give exhaustive
statement of the idea of the career as a whole? There would
seem to be two valid objections to it. First, it would be,
even from the strictly objective point of view, the point of
view of physical science, to construe the thing mind entirely
in terms of the behavior of its stages antecedent to the pres-
ent : that is entirely in terms of descriptive content, by use of
the categories of retrospective interpretation. And, second,
it does not follow that because a mental way of regarding the
world is itself a genetic growth, therefore it is an illusory way.
Let me explain these two points a little.

i. A chemist seemed justified in looking at atmospheric
air, as explained by the formula for a mixture of nitrogen
and hydrogen, for the reason, and this is his practical test, that
the behavior of air confirms that view. His confidence in his
statements of history can only be justified on the ground that
present history never contradicts it. But as soon as a new
experiment showed that new behavior may be different, and
may contradict the reports of history, he looks for a new
thing, argon — new in the sense, of course, that the historical
manifestations of the kind of reality in so-called air had never
before brought it to recognition. In other words, the nature
of air had been stated in terms of oxygen and nitrogen ; but
he now sees that* the statement founded on what was known
of origin — and that is what origin means in all these discus-
sions— was inadequate. This would seem to admit, how-
ever, that if the problem of origin could be really exhausted,

THE ORIGIN OF A ' THING' AND ITS NATURE. $6 1

that of nature would be exhausted too; and no doubt it
would. But it is a corollary from the second point of objec-
tion, soon to be made, that the problem of origin can never
be exhausted, even by philosophy, without an appeal to
other than the historical or retrospective categories.

But before I pass on to the second objection to the
position that a thing which is admitted to have had a natu-
ral history must have its interpretation adequately given
in that history, and that this applies also to the very catego-
ries by the use of which its denial is effected — before going
farther I may point out an extreme case of the main position
as sometimes argued by evolutionists. If, it may be said, the
mind has developed under constant stimulations from the
external world, and if its progress consists essentially in the
more and more adequate representation in consciousness of
the relations already existing in the external world, then it
follows that these internal representations can never do more
than reflect the historical events of experience. Conscious-
ness simply testifies again to the real as it has been testified
to her before. How, then, can there be any such thing as a
phase of reality not subject to plain statement under natural
law?1

This a very common objection to all thorough-going
statements of mental evolution. It rests on the mistaken
view, just pointed out, that a statement of the historical
career of a thing can ever be an adequate statement of its
nature ; in other words, that the origin of the categories of
thought can tell what these categories will do — what their
function and meaning is in the general movement of reality.
Consciousness is entitled to a hearing in terms of its beha-
vior solely. Its behavior, attitudes, etc., represented by

1 It is this supposed necessity that leads Mr. Huxley to hold that evolution cannot
explain ethics, i. e., the supposed necessity that the validity of ethical values must be
adequately found in the terms of their origin ; for, says he, the pursuit of evil would
have as much sanction as that of good, for both are in us, and they would have the
same origin {Evol. and Ethics, esp, p. 31). But to say, as we do, that the appeal
made by the word ' ought ' is a ' prospective ' appeal, as opposed to the description of
the ' is,' which is ' retrospective,' does not require us to say that the impulse to recog-
nize either is not a product of evolution. My discussion of Prof. Royce's attempt
(Int. Jour, of Eth., July, 1895) to show the psychological origin of the antithesis
between 'ought' and 'is,' may be referred to {Inf. Jour, of Eth. , Oct., 1895).

562 J. MARK BALDWIN.

4 prospective ' thought are there just as its behavior repre-
sented by its history is there. Who would venture to say
that consciousness of a relation in nature is in no sense a
different mode of behavior from the relation itself in nature?
The real point is in what I have already tried to put in evi-
dence : that such a construction involves the assumption that
reality in its movement defines all her own changes in ad-
vance of their actual happening. The very series of changes
which constitute the basis in experience for the growth in
consciousness of the category of change are the basis also for
the new aspects of reality (say consciousness) which are held
to be only a putting in evidence of the relations already ex-
isting in nature. If consciousness is no new thing — on our
behavior-definition of thing — then knowledge of the histor-
rical movement of reality must be not at all different from
the movement which has led up to knowledge. The discov-
ery of the principle of evolution, for example, is not a new
event added to the fact that the series evolving was there to>
be discovered !

But I may be even more concrete. I have recently de-
veloped a view of mental development which not only makes
each stage of it a matter of legitimate natural history, but
goes on to say that the one method of motor adaptation is by
imitation. What could be a more inviting field for the crit-
icism : imitation is mere repetition. How can anything new
come out of imitation? Not only is consciousness merely
repeating the relationships already there in nature, but the
development of consciousness itself is merely a series of
repetitions of its own acts. I have had this criticism already ;
especially with reference to volition. How, it is asked, can
anything new be willed if volition is in its origin only imita-
tion become complex?

I reply in a way to make concrete what has been said
immediately above. The counter question may be put: why
can not anything new come out of imitations? Why may
not the very repetition be the new thing* or the condition of
it? To say not is to say that by looking at the former in--,
stance, the historical, after its occurrence, you can say that
that occurrence fully expressed mental behavior. On the

THE ORIGIN OF A ' THING' AND ITS NATURE. 563

contrary, the prospective reference gained by the imitation
may bring out something new ; the repetition may be just
what is needed to bring an important stage in the career of
mental reality. In itself, of course, an imitation is no more
open to the objection we are considering than any other kind
of mental behavior; but it seems to be more so, because it
emphasizes the very point that the current objection to natural
history hits upon, i. e., that it makes the mind only a means
of reinstatement of relations already existing in nature, and
then makes that the explicit method of mental history.

2. The second answer to the view now being criticised
may be put in some such way as this. It does not follow
that because a product — one of the categories of organiza-
tion, such as design, the ethical, &c. — is itself a matter of
gradual growth, its application to reality is in any way invali-
dated. A category must be complete, ready-made, universal,
without exceptions, we are told, in order that its application
to particular instances be justified. But I fail to see the
peculiar and mysterious validity supposed to attach to an
intuition because whenever we think by it we allow no ex-
ceptions. Modern critiques of belief and modern theories of
nervous habit have given us reasons enough for discarding
such touch-stones as 'universality' and 'necessity.' And
modern investigations into the race development of beliefs
have told us how much better an aspect of reality really is be-
cause at one time people insisted in thinking in a certain
intuitive way about it. The whole trouble, as I think, with
the intuitional way of thinking is curiously enough that fal-
lacy which I have pointed out as being a favorite one of the
evolutionists. The evolutionists say that an intuition is of
no value when construed prospectively, i. e., as applying to
what « must be ' beyond « what is ' : it gets all its content, and
all its force, from experience. Therefore, all reality is to be
construed retrospectively, and no 'thing' is possible except
as accounted for as an evolution from historical elements.
True after things have happened, it nevertheless fails by
thinking career all finished. Why may not experience pro-
duce in us a category whose meaning is prophetic? On the
other hand, here come the intuitionists and oppose the evo-

564 y. MARK BALDWIN.

lutionists in this way. They say : no thing is possible ex-
cept as in some way evidenced for. The intuitions are
universal and necessary. As such their evidence can not be
found in experience. To admit that they had developed
would be to admit that their evidence could be found in ex-
perience. Consequently they carry their own evidence and
their own witness is all the evidence they have. The fallacy
again is just the assumption that reality is finished, that cat-
egories of retrospective reference exhaust the case. That
the series of events which are sufficient ground for the origin
of the category should also be sufficient evidence of its valid-
ity. That there is a sharp contradiction, therefore, between
a doctrine of derivation from experience (which is inadequate
as evidence) and application beyond experience. But when
we come to see that the categories of prospective thought
are equally entitled to application with those of retrospect,
we destroy the weapon of evolution to hurt the validity of
mental utterances, and at the same time knock out the props
upon which the intuitionist has rested his case.

The case stands with mental facts, to sum up, just about as
it does with all other facts. An event in nature stays what it
is until it changes. So with an event or a belief or any other
thing in the mind of the race. It stays what it is until it has
to change. Its change, however, is just as much an element
in reality as lack of change is ; and the weakening of a be-
lief like any other change is the introduction of new phases
of reality. A doctrine which holds to intuitions which ad-
mit of no prospective exceptions, no novelties, seems to
me to commit suicide by handing the whole case over to a
mechanical philosophy ; for it admits that all validity what-
ever must be cut from cloth woven out of the historical and
descriptive sequences of the mind's origin.

Our conclusions so far may be summed up tentatively in
certain propositions as follows :

1. All statements of the nature of a 'thing* get their mat-
ter mainly from the processes which they have been known
to pass through: that is, statements of nature are for the
most part statements of origin.

2. The statements of origin, however, never exhaust the

THE ORIGIN OF A « THING' AND ITS NA TURE. 365

reality of a thing ; since such statements cannot be true to
the experiences which they state unless they construe the
reality not only as a thing which has had a career but also as
one which is about to have a career : for the expectation ol
the future career rests upon the same historical series as the
belief in the past career.

3. All attempts to rule out prospective organization or
teleology from the world would be fatal to natural science,
which has arisen by provisional interpretations of just this
kind of organization : and also to the historical interpretation
of the world found in the evolution hypothesis ; for the cate-
gory of teleology is but the prospective reading of the same
series which, when read retrospectively, we call evolution.

4. The fact of natural history of any thing, and more es-
pecially of mental products, ideas, intuitions, &c., is no argu-
ment against its validity or worth as having application
beyond the details of its own history; since, if so, then a
natural history series can produce nothing new. But that is
to deny the existence of the fact or idea itself, for it is a new
thing in the series in which it arises.

5. All these points may be held together in a view which
gives each mental content a two-fold value in the active life.
Each such content begets two attitudes by its function as a
genetic factor in the progressive development of the indi-
vidual. As far as it fulfils earlier habits it begets and con-
firms the historical or retrospective attitude, as far as it is
not entirely exhausted in the channels of habit, so far it begets
the expectant or prospective attitude.

There are one or two points among many suggested by
the foregoing which it may be well to refer to — selected be-
cause uppermost in my own mind. It will be remembered
that in speaking of the categories of organization as having
prospective reference, I adduced instances largely drawn
from the phenomena of life and mind, contrasting them some-
what strongly with those of chemistry, physics, &c. The
use afterwards made of these categories now warrants us
in turning upon that distinction, in order to see whether our
main results hold for the aspects of reality with which these
sciences deal as well. I have intimated above in passing that

-566 J. MARK BALDWIN.

the other categories of reality, such as causation, mechanism,
are really capable of a similar evaluation as that given to
teleology. This possibility may be put in a little stronger
light.

It is evident, when we come to think of it, that all organ-
ization in the world must rest ultimately on the same basis;
and the recognition of this is the strength of thorough-going
naturalism and absolute idealism alike. The justification
of the view is to be made out, it seems to me, by detailed
investigation of the genetic development of the categories.
The way the child reaches his notion of causation, for exam-
ple, or that of personality, is evidence of the way we are to
consider the great corresponding race-categories of thought
to have been reached : and the category of causation is,
equally with that of personality, or that of design, a category
of organization. The reason that causation is considered a
cast-iron thing, implicit in nature in the form of 'conserva-
tion of energy,' &c., is that in the growth of the rubrics of
thought certain great differentiations have been made in ex-
perience according to observed aspects of behavior; and
those events which exhibited the more definite, invariable
aspects of behavior have been put aside by themselves ; not
of course by a conscious convention of man's, but by the con-
ventions of the organism working under the very method
which we come — when we make it consciously conventional
— to call this very category of organization. What is con-
servation but a kind of organization looked at retrospectively
and conventionally? Does it not hold simply because my
organism has made the convention that only that class of ex-
periences which are 'objective' and regular and habitual to
me shall be treated together, and so shall give rise to such a
regular mental construction on my part?

But the tendency to make all experience liable to this
kind of causation is an attempt to undo nature's convention
— to accept one of her results, which exists only in view of a
certain differentiation of the aspects of reality, and apply this
universally, to the subversion of the very differentiation on
the basis of which it has arisen. The fact that there is a
.class of experiences whose behavior issues in such a purely

THE ORIGIN OF A ' THING' AND ITS NA TURE. $6?

historical statement and arouses in me such a purely habitual
attitude, is itself witness to a larger organization — that of
the richer consciousness of expectation, volition, prophecy.
Otherwise conservation could never have got for itself ab-
stract statement in thought.

The reason that the category ol causation has assumed its
show of importance, is just that which intuitionist thinkers
urge; and another historical example of confusion due to
their use of it may be used for illustration. Causation is
about as universal a thing — in its application to certain as-
pects of reality — as could be desired. And we find the men
of this school using this fact to reach a certain statement of
theism. But they then find a category of 'freedom' claim-
ing the dignity of an intuition also ; and although this comes
directly in conflict with the uniformity ascribed to the other,
nevertheless it also is used to support the same theistic con-
clusion. The two arguments read: (i) an intelligent God
exists because the intelligence in the world must have an
adequate cause, and (2) an intelligent God exists because
the consciousness of freedom is sufficient evidence of a self-
active principle in the world, which is not caused. All we
have to say, in order to avoid the difficulty, is that any
mental fact is an ' intuition ' in reference only to its own con-
tent of experience. Intelligence viewed as a natural fact, i. e.t
retrospectively, has a cause : but freedom in its meaning in
reality, i. e., with its prospective outlook, is prophetic of nov-
elties— is not adequately construed in terms of history. So
both can be held to be valid, but only by denying universality
to both 'intuitions' and confining each to its sphere and
peculiar reference in the make up of reality.

Another thing to be referred to in this rough discussion
concerns the more precise definition of 'origin.' How much
of a thing's career belongs to its origin? How far back must
we go to come to origin?

Up to this point 1 have used the word with a meaning
which is very wide. Without trying to find a division of a
thing's behavior into the present of it as distinguished from
its history ; I have rather distinguished the two attitudes of
mind engendered by the contemplation of a thing, i. e., the

568 J. MARK BALD WIN,

'retrospective' attitude and the 'prospective* attitude.
When we come to ask for any real division between origin
and present existence we have to ask what a thing's present
value is. In answer to that we have to say that its present
value resides very largely in what we expect it to do ; and
then it occurs to us that what we expect it to do is no more
or less than what it has done. So our idea of what is, as
was said above, gets its content from what has been. But
that is to enquire into its history, or to ask for a fuller or
less full statement of its origin or career. So the question
before us seems to resolve itself into the task of finding
somewhere in a thing's history a line which divides its
career up to the present into two parts; one properly
described as origin, and the other not. Now, on the
view of the naturalist pure and simple there can be no
such line. For the attempt to construe a thing entirely
in terms of history, entirely in the retrospective catego-
ries, would make it impossible for him to stop at any point
and say ' this far back is nature and farther back is origin ' -t
for at that point the question might be asked of him ' what
is the content of the career which describe the thing's
origin ? ' — and he would have to reply in exactly the same
way that he did if we asked him the same question regarding
the thing's nature at that point. He would have to say that
the origin of the thing observed later was described by
career up to that point ; and is not that exactly the reply he
would give if we asked him what the thing was which then
was? So to get any reply to the question of the origin of
one thing different from that to the question of the nature of
an earlier thing, he would have to go still farther back. But
this would only repeat his difficulty. So he would never be
able to distinguish between origin and nature except as dif-
ferent terms for describing different sections of one continu-
ous series of aspects of behavior. This dilemma holds also,
I think, in the case of the intuitionist. For as far as he de-
nies the natural history view of origins and so escapes the
development above he holds to special creation by an intel-
ligent Deity ; but to get content to his thought of Deity he
resorts to what he knows of mental behavior. The nature
of mind then supplies the thought of the origin of mind.

THE ORIGIN OF A ' THING' AND ITS NA TURE. $69

To those who do not shut themselves up, however, to the
construction of things in the categories of realized fact, of
history, of 'retrospect,' the question of origin is a fruitful
,one apart from the statement of nature. For at any stage
in the career of a thing the two methods of thought are
equally applicable. When we ask how a thing originated,
we transport ourselves back to a point in its career at which
the ' prospective ' categories got a filling not at that stage
already expressed in the content of history. The overplus
of behavior is said to have its origin then, even though after-
wards the outcome be statable in the categories of retrospect
which have then been widened by this event. For example,
volition originates in the child at the point of its life at which
certain conscious experiences issue out of old content, ex-
periences which were not previously there, to the child, in
whatever complications of content were there. But once
arisen, the experience can be construed as a continuation
of the series of events which make up mental history.
To the Positivist and to the Intuitionist a sensational ac-
count of the genesis of volition, and to the intellectual Idealist
an ideological account of it, rule volition out of reality just
by the fallacy of thinking exclusively in retrospect ; but the
truth is to say "granted either account of its origin, it leaves
philosophy still to construe it : for if we estimate volition
from facts true before volition arose, the sources do not fully
describe it ; and if we wait to view it after it arises, then the
full statement of career must include the widened aspects of
behavior which the facts of volition afford."1

It is interesting also to note, as another case of applica-
tion of this general distinction between the mental habits
represented respectively by the terms ' prospective ' and
4 retrospective,' that it gives us some suggestions concerning
the very obscure concept called potency or potentiality.
This soi-disant concept or notion has been used by almost
every conceivable shade of thought as the repository of that
which is unexplained. Aristotle started the pursuit of this

1 In the last number (Sept, 1895) of this REVIEW I criticised Professor Watson's
view that the Absolute can be exhausted by our thought, *. e., can be adequately ex-
pressed in terms of the organizations of content already effected.

57° J. MARK BALDWIN.

notion and used it in a way which shed much light, it is true,
upon the questions of philosophy concerned with change and
organization ; but his failure to give any analysis of the con-
cept itself has been an example ever since to lesser men. It
is astonishing that, with all the metaphysics of causation
which the history of philosophy shows, there has been — that
is to my knowledge — no thorough-going attempt to trace the
psychological meaning of this category. How common it is
to hear the expression, ' this thing exists, not actually, but po-
tentially,' given as the end of debate, and accepted, too, as the
end. I do not care to go now into a historical note on the doc-
trine of potentiality ; it would be indeed mainly an exposition
of a chapter of Aristotle's metaphysics with the refinements
on Aristotle due to the logic of the schoolmen and the dog-
matic of modern theology, it may suffice to say something
of the natural history of the distinction between potential and
Teal existence in the light of the positions now taken.

In brief, then, there are two aspects as we have seen
under which reality must in all cases be viewed — the pros-
pective and the retrospective. The retrospective, as has
been said, is the summing up of the history which gives
positive content to the notion of a thing considered as accom-
plished career. This aspect, it seems clear, is what is in
view when we speak of real existence in contrast with poten-
tial existence. It is not indeed adequately rendered by the
content supplied by retrospect, since the fact that the two
predicates are held in mind together as both together appli-
cable to any concrete developing thing, forbids us to con-
strue real existence altogether apart from the fact that it has
a farther issue in farther career. It is a great merit of Aris-
totle that he forbade just this attempt to consider the duna-
mis apart from the energeia. But, nevertheless, it is true psy-
chologically that real existence is exhausted as a content-
predicate with the backward aspect of the series of changes
which give body to reality.

And it seems equally evident at first blush that potential
existence is equally concerned with the prospective reference
of the thought of things. That this is so is perhaps the one
element in the notion of potency that all who use the word

THE ORIGIN OF A ' THING' AND ITS NA TUKE. $71

would agree upon. But this is inadequate as a description
of the category of potentiality. For if that were all, how
would it differ from any other thought of the prospective?
We may think of the future career of a thing simple in terms
of time; that, we would probably agree, does not involve
potentiality. A particular potency is confined to a particu-
lar thing, i. e., to a particular series of events making up a
more or less isolated career. If only the bare fact of futu-
rity were involved, why should not any new unrolling of
career be the potency of any thing indiscriminately?

This leads us to see that potency or potentiality, even
when used in the abstract, is never free from its concrete
reference. And this concrete reference is not that of con-
ception in general, only or mainly ; the concrete reference of
conception generally is a matter of retrospect, i. e., of the
application of the concept to individual things, as far as such
application has been justified by historical instances. In-
deed, it is the very occurrence of the historical instances
which has given rise to the concept, and it generalizes them.
So when we put ourselves at the point of view of the
concrete, we have to ask what is actually meant by us when
we say a thing exists potentially, over and above the mere
meaning that the thing is to exist in the future. We have
seen that one added element of meaning is that the thing
which is to exist in the future is in some way tied down in
its manifestations to something that already exists actually ;
it must be the potentiality of some one thing in order to be
a potentiality at all. Now, how can this be?

Of course the ordinary answer is at once on our lips: the
answer that the bond between the thing that is and the thing
that is to be is the bond of causation. The potentiality is
the unexpressed causal efficacy of the thing that is. But
when we come to ask what this means, we find that we are
hiding behind one of the screens of common sense. The
very fact of cause, whatever bond it may represent from an
ontological point of view, is at least a fact of career. The
effect is a further statement of the career of the thing called
the cause. Now, to say that the potency of a thing is its
unexpressed causal power, is only to say that the thing has

572 J. MA RK BALD WIN.

not finished its career, and that is a part of the general notion
of a thing. That fact alone does not in any way define the
future career for us, except in the way of repetition of past
career. We merely expect the thing to do what it has done be-
fore; not to become some new thing out of the old. In short,
the category of causation is not adequate, since it construes
all career retrospectively.

We have, therefore, two positions so far, saying (i) that
every potency is the potency of a thing, and this means that
it gets its content in some way from the historical series
which that thing embodies ; but (2) that it is something more
than a restatement of any or all of the elements of the series
thus embodied. Now, what else is there?

The remaining element in the category of potentiality in-
volves, I think, a very subtle movement of the mind along
the same distinction of the prospective from the retrospect-
ive. Briefly, the potentiality which I ascribe to a thing is my
general expectation of more career in reference to it, with
the added sense, based on the combined experiences of mine
that the prospective does get a retrospective filling after it
has happened, that the new career of the thing to which I
ascribe the potency, although not yet unfolded, will likewise
be capable of retrospective interpretation as further state-
ment of the one series which now defines the thing.

In short, there are three elements or phases of conscious-
ness in this matter: first, let us say, the general prospective
element, the expectation that something will happen ; second,
the causation or retrospective element, the expectation that
when it has happened it will be a consistent part of the his-
tory of the thing; and, third, the conscious setting back of
my observation to the dividing line between these two points
of view, and the contemplation of the thing under both of
them — both as a present thing, and as a thing for what it will
be when the future becomes present.

For example : I say that a tree expresses the potency or
potentiality of the seed. This means three very concrete
things. I expect the seed to have a future; I expect the
future to be a tree — that is, a thing whose descriptive series
is continuous with that already descriptive of the seed — and,

THE ORIGIN OF A ' THING' AND ITS NA TURE. 573

finally, I now look upon the seed as embodying the whole
tree series now artificially present in my thought.

Of course, on the view of this paper the question of the
ultimate origin of the universe may still come up for answer.
Can there be an ultimate stopping-place anywhere in the
career of the thing- world as a whole? Does not our position
make it necessary that at any such stopping-place there
should be some kind of filling drawn from yet antecedent
history to give our statement of the conditions of origin any
distinguishing character? It seems to me so. To say the
contrary would be to do in favor of the prospective catego-
ries what we have been denying the right of the naturalist to
do in favor if those of retrospect. Neither can proceed with-
out the other. The only way to treat the problem of ulti-
mate origin is not to ask it, as an isolated problem. Lotze
says that the problem of philosophy is to require what reality
is, not how it is made ; and this will do if we remember that
we must exhaust the empirical ' how ' to get a notion of the
empirical 4 what/ and that there still remains over the ' pros-
pect ' which the same author has hit off in his famous saying,
' Reality is richer than thought.' To desiderate a what which
has no how — this seems as contradictory as to ask for a how
in terms of what is not. It is really this last chase of the
'how' that Lotze deprecates — and rightly.

Addenda, (i) Further applications: to the discussion of
freedom; to the discussion of ideals ; criticism of the general
concept of law from this point of view ; applications in ethics
(cf. with Royce's distinction vs. ' world of description ' and
4 world of appreciation'); question oi the notion of time (*'. e.t
is the distinction between the « prospective ' .and « retrospect-
ive ' merely one of time, or does the notion of time find its
genesis in this difference of mental attitude?)

(2) References: Ritchie, Darwin and Hegel r, Chap. I;
Royce, Spirit of Modern Philosophy, in loc. and Int. Journ. of
Ethics, July 1895; Baldwin, Mental Development : Methods and
Processes, Chaps. VII, XI, and Int. Journ. of Ethics, Oct. 1895.

SOME OBSERVATIONS ON THE ANOMALIES OF
SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS.

(II.)

BY PROFESSOR JOSIAH ROYCE,

Harvard University.

I spent some months, a few years since, in pretty frequent
and close intercourse with a young man who, though then
certainly unknown in his inner life to any medical man, was
a pretty highly pathological instance of the more metaphys-
ical type of the malady of self-consciousness. He came for
counsel as a young genius, willing to let me read endless
manuscript productions of his own, including his diaries,
which I was permitted to examine. He was disposed to get
some advice about his intended career as a poet, as man of
free soul, and as independent person generally. He was a
man of twenty-four, in easy circumstances, uncontrolled by
his parents, of fairly robust physical appearance, and, so far
as I could guess, of generally good vegetative health — a man
who had certainly so far been able to bear, without much
physical inconvenience, the strain of a good deal of dissipa-
tion. No serious illnesses were admitted in his past since
childhood. His appetite and sleep were reported as good ;.
his emotional undertone, however hard you tested him, was,
one of pretty steady cheerfulness, even in the midst of his.
greatest perplexities; his social manners were gentle, and
on the whole rather feminine in their kindliness, their plas-
ticity, their somewhat girlish type of half-timid vanity. His,
friends had long regarded him as an extraordinary personr
possibly a genius, certainly a puzzle. At school he had done
well, especially in such writing as he printed in school jour-
nals ; had won a really skilful control over several forms of
verse, had tried his hand at romantic prose with fluency, and
had always shown a good deal of artistic sensibility. Men-
tally he still retained a rich element of true naivete* about
574

OBSERVATIONS ON ANOMALIES OF SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 575

him, despite his maladies. He had an intense though romanti-
cally vague love of nature, of living creatures, of young
children, of tender and sweet things generally, and this
fondness again was often expressed with a relatively femi-
nine enthusiasm and simplicity.

But now, on the basis of this child-like and so far keenly
suggestible nature, with its sensitive but physically vigorous
na'ivet^ there was superimposed a second nature, colored,
and partly determined, apparently, by the inherited bent and
the acquired habits of his sexual life. The latter had grad-
ually become a life of excesses and of pronounced and openly
defended libertinism. His disorders in this respect were
reinforced by considerable capriciously irregular drinking,
by many cigarettes, and by much strong coffee. As to all
these habits, my charge was absolutely stubborn, had no
moments of repentance, never was suggestible, in this region
of his life, and occasionally became, if reasoned with upon
such topics, strangely brutal in tone, especially in letters
which he wrote to me, and which contrasted singularly with
his gentleness when in my company, and with the almost
uniform suggestibility of his moods whenever we talked to-
gether. These incidents of what proved to be a decidedly path-
ological love of excitement were, however, not the most im-
mediate of the symptoms of mental disturbance. At all events
the dissipations were not the mere overflow of a wastefully
vigorous physical nature. They were, as it proved, the
accompaniments of a highly ominous eccentricity of general
mental temperament. My charge had already shown, in
writings produced in his later boyhood, and submitted to-
me amongst the rest, a strong tendency to a partially inco-
herent wealth of half automatic trains of words, images, and
ideas. This trait remained in him during the time when I
knew him, and, while it was plainly made worse by his ex-
cesses, I could not at all refer its origin to these habits. For
the elements of the process were all present in his writings
at fifteen years of age, while his physical habits were of
recent growth. The trait never showed itself in his speech
in any such form as in his writings. His set compositions
at school, and in school papers, failed to show his defects.

JO SI AH RO YCE.

But they were manifest in all that he wrote for himself. It
was when he was alone that the impulse to this half-auto-
matic thinking, imaging, dreaming, and writing would seize
him. Then came processes whose character was decidedly
marked, and very often repeated. A wholly imaginary
scene or situation, usually represented in pretty vivid visual
terms, would come to mind, and my charge would begin to
weave a story about this scene, or to elaborate the matter
in a poem or to write an essay. From the outset this scene
or situation would seem to the man himself, however, not
the mere beginning of a possible train of voluntary produc-
tion, but an insistently significant symbol of something pretty
mysterious, and very vague ; and his process of composition
was always an effort to find out what the symbol meant. The
sincerity of this inner attitude towards his symbolic images
I had occasion to test in many ways, and I became very sure
of the genuineness of my subject's expressions as to this
matter. He had, to be sure, as yet, no trace of any system
of interpretation, and no actual delusions as to the real exist-
ence of any definite kind of wisdom to be gained in this way.
But the inner questions: What does this symbol mean?
What is this that has come to me? How can I find out what
I mean by this idea? — these were at such times simply in-
sistent questions, and they forced upon the subject a per-
plexing and fascinating sort of brooding, which filled up
altogether too much of his life when alone, and, at the time
when I knew him, determined a very busy activity of liter-
ary composition. The symbols varied very widely from
time to time, both as to content and as to kind of significance.
Now they were romantic situations, involving forests, ruined
castles, mysterious mansions, lonely streams. Now they
seemed to be of a more purely metaphysical implication.
The result of the appearance of such a symbol might be
some hours of silent brooding, or of half-automatic writing,
which was carried on with a strong sense of combined
delight and puzzle, with a good many marked but capricious
changes of bodily sensations — flushings and other physical
excitements of various content, which were often carefully
noted as the man wrote. The result was never a solution

OBSER VA TIONS ON A NOMA LIES OF SELF-CONSCIO USNESS. S77

of the puzzle ; on the contrary the tangle was always in-
creased, until the subject abandoned his case in weariness.
The most of his actually completed compositions were short
poems, seldom or never free from some marked defects of
form, but occasionally decidedly skilful, and, in some in-
stances, remarkably coherent, and even, in themselves, prom-
ising. Here my subject's wide reading, and his sense for
verse forms helped him, although again the influence of
Walt Whitman was often disastrous. But the poems never
solved his problems. On the other hand his prose remained,
at the time when I knew him, always fragmentary. It was
devoted to the symbols, and was consequently hopelessly
formless, of ten Regenerating in various places with the most
frankly avowed incoherence. At such moments the writer
would plainly say that he was dealing with the inexpressible,
and must simply do what he could. The composition of this
prose was dominated by the aforesaid ominous and uncon-
trollable automatism of associative processes. Images,
self-analysis, new puzzles, occasionally new symbols, trooped
in masses. The writer could only look on, and report his
inspirations. To be sure, he never quite lost track of his
original inquiry, and often returned afresh to his starting
point, in such a way as to show clearly the insistence of his
dominating question. But the story, or essay, or analysis,
or confession, to which the symbol gave rise, was a chaos of
uselessly recorded broodings, as far beyond rationally defin-
ite control as were his often lively dreams when really
asleep. Characteristic of the case it was however that the
steady sense of wonder and perplexity never left him in all
this composition, and this alone gave to his papers any gen-
uine unity, and saved them from being a mere record of a
flight of ideas. They had no result; but they always had
their precisely defined purpose, viz., to solve the mystery of
the meaning of this symbol.

But my subject did not live altogether alone. His dis-
sipations were carried on in company, and this company
included many people. And now appeared the other side of
his case. His social sensitiveness, influenced, as I judged,
by his strongly sensuous nature, was as remarkable as were

578 JO SI A H RO YC£.

his automatic processes. In conversation, I have said, he
was kindly and suggestible. His sense of perplexity seldom
wholly left him, and often made him converse in a curiously
broken and fragmentary way, with some of the confusedness,
although never with the automatic wealth, of his writings.
But apart from this, his social sensitiveness showed itself in
the form of an endless series of somewhat feminine, and
seldom ungraceful poses. He assumed various attitudes,
expressed various moods, ideals, aims, according as the con-
versation led him. He himself complained sometimes of an
inner sense of insincerity in these poses; while the latter
actually had the same kind of automatic insincerity that one
notes in the dramatic attitudes of many of those more or less
hysterically diposed women, who, when in company, are not
merely normally plastic, but are even fatally at the mercy of
the now suggested conversational mood or bearing or imper-
sonation. To be sure, my subject, at his worst, never had
so wide a range of poses as such an hysterically disposed
woman would have, but was constantly limited by his insist-
ent inner wonder as to why he was doing and saying all these*
things, when probably he meant none of them. Here then
was a second source of confusedness in his life. To one who-
saw as much of bad company as this man, and who also-
sought out many other kinds of company, this automatic
suggestibility was likely to prove almost as disorganizing as
were his stubborn lonely broodings.

To complete the picture one has only to note that my
subject's social sensitiveness especially showed itself in the
form of certain intense and instantaneous impressions which
he had concerning people's characters when he first met new
acquaintances. These absolutely self-confident seeming in-
tuitions of character phenomena which, as you all doubtless
know, are not infrequent as an automatic emotional process
in certain sensitive persons, usually took for my subject the
characteristic form before described. They were namely, in
him, intuitions which appeared as symbols, mysterious, at-
tractive, baffling, like the symbols of his lonely broodings.
Only these symbols of characters came to him as reflexes
whenever he first met some person who chanced to attract

OBSERVA TIONS ON ANOMALIES OF SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 579

his notice. At the sight of such a person there at once
flashed into his mind the symbol — a scene, a typical myth-
ical act which this person was at once visualized as doing,
or again, a wholly mysterious inanimate object, or the inner
vision another person, apparently very unlike this one. The
symbol came with the feeling: « This means what, at heart,
this new acquaintance truly is.' But meanwhile came also
the insistent question: 'What does this symbol mean?' For
the symbol was seldom or never one of any sure meaning at
all. Only, as my subject told me, whatever he later came to
learn of the new acquaintance's character, always got assim-
ilated to the symbol, and served to confirm or to explain it.
The symbol thus, of course, never turned out to be inapplic-
able. But in further intercourse my subject always watched
with insistent eagerness for every clue that the new acquain-
tance gave of his true personality. My subject consequently
loved to stare, with a characteristic intentness, at people's
faces and movements. This broodingly curious stare he
tried, because of his social geniality, to conceal, and further,
his frequently puzzled self-absorption combined with other
motives to give his facial play and his gestures, when in
company, a singularly unequal and inconsistent seeming.
Now he looked down long and steadily, with a puzzled
smile, at his hands; now he glanced up slyly and timidly as
he talked ; now giving way to his curiosity about character-
study, he stared at you e'agerly with an expression of rapt
absorption, and again assuming one of the aforesaid dramatic
poses, he gave himself over to the momentary mood, and
acted more or less completely in character, often adding the
observation that he doubted his own sincerity all the while.
But of the sincerity of the experiences with the character-
symbols there could be no doubt. For some of his lengthiest
essays were devoted to character-studies founded upon just
such symbols, whose possible meanings he developed in the
aforesaid formless fashion. The imagery of the symbols
often had, for the rest, a suspiciously coarse and cynical
content.

Here, then, on the foregoing theory, were the most man-
ifold materials for abnormal habits of self-consciousness : — a

580 JOSIAH ROYCE.

notably variable common sensibility, heightened by the now
moderately irritating results of my subject's toxic and other
excesses; a large collection of fascinating automatic associa-
tive processes, usually felt to be uncontrollable ; an inner
stubbornness of self-will, inconsistently linked with an ex-
cessive social plasticity, which resulted in many poses, alsa
uncontrollable ; a collection of socially determined emotional
reflexes, which expressed themselves to consciousness in the
form of the character-symbols aforesaid, and which led to an
absorbing disposition to brood with an ineffective curiosity
over the inner life of other people. All this occurred in a
brain of more than average although formless wealth of in-
tellectual processes, and in a man of some artistic taste and
sensibility, and of considerable, although decidedly irregular,,
cultivation.

The actual result was a fairly monumental disorder of
self-consciousness, which pervaded the man's whole work
and life. That, amongst other things, this man for a while
played at studying philosophy, you will perhaps find not
surprising ; but his philosophical study was of the crudest
and most fragmentary sort, and served only to give him a
few phrases in which to embody his puzzles ; and, for the
rest, I warned him away from all such studies, so soon as I
had fairly made out his condition. For such men as he was
philosophy, as I told him, can indeed do only mischief. But
whatever his phrases, it was not any serious philosophical
reflection, nor any other theoretical motive, that guided him.
when he brooded over the endless and insistent problem of
problems in his life, viz., the question: ''Who am I, and
what do I really want or mean in this world?" Since he
was fifteen years old, as he repeatedly told me, he had
simply been waiting, in growing chaos, in idleness, in dis-
sipation, varied by his activities as a writer — waiting till
light should come as to who he was, and what he was here
for. With a pathetic eagerness he used to beg me to make
out his case, and to answer his question, that he might learn
to live, and see his way out of the darkness. But as a factr
since he was emotionally a cheery man, despite all his per-
plexities and his occasionally keen sufferings, he really did

OBSER VA TIONS ON ANOMALIES OF SELF-CON SCIO (JSNESS. 5 8 I

not want to find any way out at all. His real interest in
coming to me was simply to get a listener. He once called
his inner world, just as it was, his fairy land. He was
plainly minded to stay there — and in the end so far as I was
able to follow his career, he stayed. For some years I have
lost sight of him. Of course, while he was near me, I did
what I could ; but the case was too temperamental for any
effective treatment.

One example of my subject's style of written work must
end this sketch. I choose almost at random, but not for the
sake of illustrating what was least sane about my charge.
On the contrary it is the slighter variation from the norm
which is often most instructive. My records of the case give
me such processes by the dozen. And this example is not
by any means amongst the worst as to coherence. There is
no reason to suppose the following passage to have been
written under any direct toxic influence, and what I knew of
my subject's habits rendered such an hypothesis, in this
instance, quite unnecessary. This was his routine fashion of
half-automatic brooding when alone. On this occasion he
had been writing for an hour or two, in an essay sponta-
neously prepared for my eye, concerning a certain ideal that
had come to him, after reading Newcomb's Popular Astron-
omy,— an ideal of an impersonal and heavenly sort of self-
possessed wisdom, which, as he just then fancied, he desired
to attain. What follows is a description of a warfare between
this ideal sort of selfhood, and the passions of his usual sen-
suously chaotic life : —

"I mean to try to justify myself. Judge you. I'll
listen some time when you have fully made up your mind
about me. I think I am playing with parts of my character
to get rid of them. Do you know I think I haven't any
identity at all, down at bottom. I realize it when I am
writing in this way. I feel almost mad. I am so out of my
ordinary self of personal contact — and squeamish sensitive-
ness, when touched on occasion to the quick by the living
forms about me in intercourse with them. Here's your
deepest problem of psychology — the identification with the
absolute. I mean the above seriously. I want you to con-

5 82 JO SI AH RO YCE.

sider it. My sensations on these occasions are extremely
peculiar and complex. I feel beyond what I have supposed
to be myself, utterly, and yet there lingers the remem-
brance, and when I stop and head the remembrance,
there comes a sharp conflict — an extremely sharp conflict —
a mixed feeling in regard to self, as if I were two personali-
ties, two selves — and another self were first turning to one
then to the other (and yet it is not the real self — and yet
again not unreal) and considering which is the right one.
When feeling the impersonal self, feeling at the same time
that it must somehow include in it the personal squeamish
self — the one whose desires are gratified — who enjoys exist-
ence, the world — eating, drinking, loving, and feeling if
it cannot have it, how it must be giving up all the joys of ex-
istence— everything that makes life worth living — how if it
sacrifices itself it must feel infinitely worse than one feels it
has an extremely sore tooth pulled from one's head — how it
would be mad — insane — being another self than the natural
one — yet feeling that the personal self must go — that the sore
tooth must be extracted once and for all — and yet that it can-
not — absolutely cannot part from it — for then it would be (yes
I mean it — this is the sensation) naught — or mad — not myself
— a mere machine — somehow — that it cannot realize it other-
wise, and just so the feeling goes with the personal self in
predominance — only then the impersonal self is so vague so
far away — except when writing in this way and on several
other like absorbed occasions — or in thinking of future self-
conduct, etc.

"Well to renew — the fact of renewing brings me back of
course nearer to the narrow personal self. — Oh how can I
give up that self! — madness — without the joys of existence —
nought — machine — not a self at all — for Sir Isaac Newton had
a decided self — and so has Professor X. — they're all narrow
more or less (and how can I sacrifice myself — this body and
brain cannot even hold the enlarged comparative imperson-
ality of Sir Isaac, without madness — being beside one's self
— out of one's self — for he was so constructed as to be that
comparatively impersonal self. He was — and I am not — I
feel it. But time will tell providing the change is gradual

OBSERVATIONS ON ANOMALIES OF SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 583

eh? — And meantime I get rid of much of the burden here —
unless the associations occur again too strongly).

" My theme has grown. I'll wait to catch the threads
and then if possible condense. — Meantime I am hot. My head
feels stuffy. I feel almost that impersonal self already (queer
phraseology this — "impersonal self — This remark a part of
personal self). I feel without usual bodily sensations — a fact
—without usual sensations, thoughts — ways of thinking —
yet stuffy and warm about head and body. — So I say to my-
self, I give myself up to you to make what use of it you can.
The personal self — the narrowest — cries for recompense —
says I am foolish — even in saying this ' foolish ' foolish — says
I may be ridiculed. — The more impersonal steps in and says,
What then the difference? You (that is I) may be foolish
but he (you, Professor Royce) makes use of it — and he un-
derstands— you wish to be understood — you have no object
— not much object even in this — but let the writing go to
him. What after all the difference? — And he makes use of
it — and you express yourself which after all is a good thing
— but again for whom? — yourself — myself. What object
again? — justice? love? Who feels the love? Love for Pro-
fessor Royce? — Why he laughs in a personal way— »en joys
himself at Symphony Orchestra Concerts — not altogether for
the absolute and the progress of the race. He perhaps laughs
now — Who? Professor Royce — at me — then I'll quit writ-
ing,— no again, What is the difference? But if no object
once more answer me. Why do I write? After all it must
be for self. No — yes — but again what is the difference? For
self once more — for love — for the very fact that you are in-
different— no and yes again, etc. So the contest goes on
and after all I keep on writing — yes I believe for myself. I
believe I'm sure of that."

My theses in the foregoing have been :—
i. Self-conscious functions are all of them, in their pri-
mary aspect, social functions, due to the habits of human
intercourse. They involve the presentation of some contrast
between Ego and non-Ego. This psychological contrast is
primarily that between the subject's own conscious act, idea,
intent, or other experience, and an experience which is re-

584 JO SI AH RO YCE.

garded by him as representing the state of another's mind.
By means of habits gradually acquired, this contrast early
comes to be extended to include that between one's inner
states and the represented realities which make up the physi-
cal world.

2. In the primary cases of contrast between Ego and non-
Ego, the former — the Ego — always includes (for reasons
which have been explained in the foregoing), the present
modifications of the common sensibility, and the feelings of
the sense of control, where these are present at all. The
latter, the psychological non-Ego, is a colder, a more local-
ized, and less controllable mass of mental contents.

3. Emotional states, and in general all those modifications
of the common sensibility which uniformly accompany any
of our social reflexes, become, by association, linked with
our memories and ideas of social situations, and cannot be
repeated without more or less clearly or vaguely reminding
us of such social situations in an individual or in a summary
form.

4. When social situations involving particular contrasts
of Ego and non-Ego are remembered or imagined, we be-
come self-conscious in memory, or in idea. When emotions,
associated by old habit with social situations, dimly or sum-
marily suggest such situations, with their accompanying
contrast of Ego and non-Ego, our self consciousness gets
colored accordingly. Finally, when the varied contents of
our isolated consciousness involve in any way, as they pass,
contrasts which either remind us of the social contrast be-
tween Ego and non-Ego, or excite us to acts involving social
habits, such as questioning, or internal speech, we become
reflectively self-conscious, even when quite alone with our
own states.

5. The anomalies of self-consciousness are (i) primary
alterations of the common sensibility, or of the other contents
of passing consciousness, such as dimly or clearly suggest
anomalous social situations, contrasts and functions ; or else
they are (2) primary anomalies in one's social habits them-
selves. The two forms can be of course to any degree
combined.

THE PERCEPTION OF TWO POINTS NOT THE
SPACE-THRESHOLD.

BY GUY TAWNEY,
Leipzig.

In the older psycho-physical conception of Weber and
Fechner, the space-threshold of a locality on the skin is that
distance of two stimulating points from each other at which
they are at first perceived as two. The classical works of
Weber, « De Pulsu, Resorptione, Auditu, et Tactu,' and
1 Tastsinn und Gemeingefuhl,' first excited physiologists and
psychologists to seek an exact knowledge of this distance for
different localities on the skin and to form some physiologi-
cal explanation of its regularities and variations. Fechner,
using the terminology of Herbart, first named this distance
the Raumschwelle, and the term has come to be used to a
greater or less extent in psychological literature. The concep-
tion is mathematical in so far as it is based on the geometrical
fact that two points are necessary to the simplest form of
space-extension. It is physiological in so far as based upon
Weber's theory of sensory circles, according to which two
or more ' sensory circles' must lie unstimulated between two
' touched circles' in order that space, in its simplest form, be
tactually perceived. The conception presupposes that there
is a space-threshold ; that it is the point of transition from
the sensation of one point to that of two ; and that it is to be
found either by the so-called ' method of least perceptible
changes' or by that ' of right and wrong cases,' provided the
answers collected be passed through one or another of the
formulas of Fechner, Muller and Camerer, all of which are
based upon the Gaussian formula1 of the theory of Proba-
bility.

These three formulas arose in connection with the method
of right and wrong cases which Vierodt first formulated and

1 This formula contains but two variables.

585

586 GUY TAWNEY.

applied.1 It was found from the first that between the sen-
sation of one point and that of two, a variety of sensations
which can neither be classed as those of one point nor of two
appear. Of the pupils of Vierordt in the physiological in-
stitute at Tubingen, Kottenkamp and Ulrich2 divided the
sensations which appear in such experiments into the follow-
ing classes — I. Double sensations, including a) those with a
correct and b) those with an incorrect judgment of the af-
fected spots of skin; II. simple sensations, c) pointed or d)
as if the skin were touched with a long-shaped instrument,.
a) correctly so felt and yS) incorrectly. Out of these cases
they included only I a) under the category of 'right judg-
ments,' leaving all the others to the class of 'wrong' ones.
Paulus8 and Riecker4, as also Schimpf5 and Hartmann*
adopted the same classification, adding only the answer ' un-
decided' to the list of 'wrong cases.' In his first series of
experiments,7 Dr. Camerer subsumed ' all sensations which
cannot be nearer described than that they seem to be pro-
duced, not by one pin-point, but by something more exten-
sive,' among the cases of ' right judgments.' But in his later
series8 he accepted the four answers, 'two points,' 'more
than one point,' 'undetermined,' and 'one simple point.'

To dispose of these troublesome groups of intermediate
sensations, the three mathematical formulas of Fechner, Miil-
ler, and Camerer, each claiming superiority to the other two,
were constructed. Their purpose is to reduce, by a simple
calculation in the Theory of Probability, this numerous group
of intermediate answers to the two variables, r and f, or r
and z, which the formulas contain. In Camerer's first ex-
periments in which the answers were 'one point,' 'two
points,' and 'undecided,' that latter group were evenly di-

1 Unterschieds empfindlichkeit im Schallgebeite — Vierordt's Archiv, 1856, Heft
2, p, 185.

1 Versuche liber den Raumsinn der Haut der oberen Extremitaten, p. 42.
' Versuche liber den Raumsinn der Haut der oberen Extremitaten, p. 3.

4 Versuche tiber den Raumsinn der Kopfhaut, Tabelle II, p. 14.

5 Raumsinn der unteren Extremitat bei Anchylose des Kniegelenks I, p. n and ff.
* Raumsinn der Haut des Rumpfes und des Halses. Tabelle I, p. 7.

7 Versuche liber den Raumsinn der Haut nach der Methode der r. u. f. Falle, I.

8 Versuche tiber den Raumsinn der Haut nach der Methode der r. u. f. Falle, No.
II, p. 285 ff.

TWO POINTS NOT THE SPACE-THRESHOLD. 587

vided between the two classes of 'right' and 'wrong judg-
ments.' That all these methods leave much room for gross
inaccuracies in results seems admitted by all. Nor do the
elaborate formulas settle the question. The discussion of
their relative values seems to have died with their champions,
and the applicability of the methods of right and wrong cases
to the determination of the so-called Raumschwelle is still an
open question in the school of Psycho-physics, as the late
discussions of Merkel amply demonstrate.

A more recent view has offered a somewhat different con-
ception of space according to which it is based upon a quality
of sensation as such. According to Kiilpe this quality, viz.,
extensity (Ausgedehntheit) belongs to sensations of sight and
touch1 : according to James2 and Ward,3 to all sensations. In
connection with a series of experiments to determine the
effect of exercise on the perception of two points, it was
thought that a new side of the facts in regard to the tactual
perception of space might be gained by asking the observer
to describe his sensations, as fully as possible, giving their
spatial characteristics and, in connection with the perception
of two points, their apparent distances apart. A large num-
ber of the descriptions received are difficult to classify and
cannot be conveniently given in the form of tables; but
enough can be thrown into the following groups to convince
one that every sensation of touch has a space-quality which
at once becomes apparent through the comparison of two or
more different sensations with each other.

The observers in these experiments were Herr Max
Arrer (Ar.), M. Victor Henri (H.), Rev. S. Gringe Hefel-
bower (Hef.), and Messrs. G. M. Stratton (St.), A. Miiller
(A. M.), and G. Tawney (T.). We wish here to express our
thanks to these five gentlemen for their indispensable assist-
ance. Table I. gives the cases in which one sensation only
was felt. In the first vertical column are the observers ; in
the following four the applied stimuli, viz., one point, two
points whose distance apart is below the threshold for the

1 Grundriss der Psychologic, p. 347, § 3.

« Principles of Psychology, Vol. II, Chap. XX, p. 135.

* Encyclopaedia Britannica, Article ' Psychology,' pp. 49, 53-

588

GUY TAWNEY.

perception of two points, two points near the threshold, two
points. over the threshold; in the following four columns are
given the answers received, thrown into the following groups :
' small,' ' sharp ' or ' pointed ;' ' medium,' ' round ' or ' good ;'
1 large,' ' blunt* or ' extended,' and ' a line' or ' lengthy sen-
sation.' The adjective 'good' was used by nearly all, and
when asked what they meant, they answered ' medium-sized/
4 round,' ' solid,' 'not to be mistaken,' 'easy to recognize/
etc. The instrument used in all the experiments was a sim-
ple pair of compasses, into which fine, carefully-prepared
bone points had been inserted.

TABLE I. — Descriptions of 667 single sensations in terms of
space, the stimuli being i point, 2 points below the
threshold, 2 about thethreshold, and 2 over the threshold.

STIMULUS.

ANSWER.

0
g

H

H

4

H

i

w

K

r*

>

OBSERVER.

1.

n

1

g.

0

h

8-3-
£.

ro points ove
threshold.

i-

' - 3*

-3

«£:

u

o

•^wf

irge,' 'blunt
' extended.'

line ' or ' length
sensation.'

5

«

»t

>

-

*<

12

2

7

i

2

Ar.

84

II

30

3

40

58

20

II

27

13

i

3

9

45

23

5

12

5

H.

27

6

6

II

4

3

i

2

26

7

6

2

ii

St.

22

3

3

6

10

3

3

3

3

A. M.

39

10

2

27

30

II

19

30

20

IO

8

2

Hef.

|4

77

7
4

17
6

10

9

50
58

21

i

2

18

56

15

15

17

9

T.

22

12

2

4

4

4

2

I

i

8

4

3

I

TWO POINTS NOT THE SPACE-THRESHOLD. 589

In this table the sensations shift gradually from the first
column, 'small and pointed,' toward the last two, as the
stimulus passes from one point to two points over the thres-
hold. In the cases of H., A. M., and St., the absence from
the table of experiments with two points over the threshold
is due to the fact that these observers seldom or never mis-
took two points over the threshold for one point as the others
so often did. The table shows that the space-quality of the
sensations of different persons varies widely. Only a very
general regularity exists between them. A. M. seemed not
to experience single long sensations at all, while St. and Hef.
seemed to have more lengthy ones than any other kind. I
touched the arm of A. M. with the edge of a visiting-card
and asked whether he ever had similar sensations from the
compass-points. His answer was an unqualified no.1

Table II. gives experiments in which two sensations were
felt and described. In the first two vertical columns are the
observers and the stimuli for each ; in the following seven
are the judgments, divided into two classes, where the sen-
sations were alike, and where they were unlike or different.
In the first class the two points are alike and either * small '
and 'sharp,' 'medium-sized' and 'spherical,' 'large' and
* blunt,' or ' two points with a line connecting them;' in the
second class the points are different: ' the one large and the
other small,' ' the one lengthy and the other round,' ' differ-
ent in space-quality, but connected by a line or long sen-
sation.'

1 It may be significant that the muscles of H. and A. M., those of A. M. es-
pecially, were hard and round at the investigated places, filling out the skin so as to
prevent its movement; while those of St. are comparatively soft, and those of Hef.
rather fleshy, permitting the compass-points of their own weight to sink into them and
thus causing comparatively extensive movements of the skin. This may explain the
fact of their frequency with St. and Hef. and their infrequency with H. and A. M. In
any case the cause of these variations seems to be chiefly peripheral, as distinct from
imagination, expectation, etc.

590

GUY TAWNEY.

TABLE II. — Descriptions of 1063 double sensations, 765 alike
and 298 unlike, the stimuli being i point, 2 points below
the threshold, 2 points near the threshold, and 2 points
above it.

Two POINTS FELT

Two POINTS FELT

ALIKE.

UNLIKE.

o

v

£

^

§>

6

O

H

w
y>

STIMULUS.

-1

88.

<§

%

si

w

5'

if

ft-**

Si

£o-
| .

if

n> >— •
-i n

II

* * P>

P"o

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rt 3

' * sf

o.^5

^t*o

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r»

a

|_|

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cr"
ft

§

One point.
2 p'ts under threshold.

10

5

2

I

i

20

IO

5

<1

2 p'ts about thres.

15

12

5

6

26

16

3

2 p'ts over thres.

25

2O

15

i

2

One point.

28

25

6

23

8

5

2

.

2 p'ts under thres.

31

2O

13

30

II

4

4

C/2

2 p'ts about thres.

5

5

6

5

I

i

i

2 p'ts over thres.

7

9

13

3

2

i

One point.

5

i

2

Jg

2 p'ts under thres.

3

7

•

2 p'ts about thres.

6

7

4

i

3

4

2 p'ts over thres.

5

22

i

7

One point.

22

22

10

8

i

.

2 p'ts under thres.

7

5

i

2

20

5

10

ffi

2 p'ts about thres.

4

3

i

5

25

3

16

2 p'ts over thres.

23

19

7

2

2

One point.

50

21

i

27

38

4

6

rt"

2 p'ts under thres.

7

2

6

I

H

2 p'ts about thres.

4

I

2

2

2 p'ts over thres.

61

32

4

15

15

5

Table II. gives ample illustration of the fact which we
have in hand, viz., that all sensations of touch have a space-
quality. It will be noticed that the larger proportion of the
cases where the two points are different are stimulated by
one point or by two points under the threshold. For exam-
ple, Ar. felt two points alike 10 times and unlike 20 times
when the stimulating points were below the threshold, 15
times alike and 26 times unlike when the points were near
the threshold, but 25 times alike and only 2 times unlike
when the points were over the threshold. This fact accords

TWO POINTS NOT THE SPACE-THRESHOLD. 591

with the self-observation of Ar. that there is always a differ-
ence between the two sensations of a so-called Vexirfehler,
where two points are felt where only one is touched, such
that he can in most cases recognize the illusory and the gen-
uine points. But this was not the observation of St. or A.
M., but rather the opposite. In the case of Hef. the two
sensations from two points over the threshold were always
felt as separate, round, solid, and perfectly alike. But what
the cause of these differences in different observers may be
we are not able to surmise owing to the lack of a large num-
ber of observers. The false perceptfon of two points where
only one point was touched was most frequent with St. and
T. ; and least frequent with Hef. who seems to possess in
general a very highly developed and very healthy sensory
nervous system.

Variations in the 'threshold' were frequent with the same
individuals, not only from day to day, but also within the
same hour. One observer was found in Wundt's institute
who has taken part in numerous skin-experiments, on the
volar side of whose lower arm a 'threshold' could not be
found which remained constant for a half hour; a similar
experience was that with St. and T. Moreover, we made
the attempt to repeat the same experiment several times in
succession under exactly the same conditions. An example
of the results obtained is the following. The place is the
volar side of St.'s right lower arm, as it lay unmoved through-
out the experiments on the table. The distance apart of the
points was 20 mm. The spots on the skin were the same in
each experiment, the time interval being always about two
minutes. The pressure in each trial was the same, viz., the
weight of the compasses. His answers were as follows;
First experiment — two points, 15 mm. apart, clear, equally

strong, simultaneously and immediately perceived.
Second experiment — at first a line; then two distinct ends
which became perfect points about 30 mm. apart but con-
nected by a line.

Third experiment — one point, sharp, deep, somewhat painful.
Fourth experiment — two points separated about 20 mm., but
lying at right angles to the above two points.

592 GUY TAWNEY

Fifth experiment — one point, somewhat large.

Sixth experiment — at first several points: then three became

clearer than the remainder: at last one seemed a real point

surrounded by a group of fainter ones.
Seventh experiment — at first two points bound together by a

line : then a large lengthy sensation about 1 5 mm. in length.
Eighth experiment — two points about 12 mm. apart, clear,

equally strong and simultaneous.

Ninth experiment — one point, small, simple, and definite.
Tenth experiment — two points, 10 mm. apart, simultaneous,

equally strong, becoming painful.

Experiments similar to these were made on H. and, later,
by H. on T. with the same general results. Such variations
are well known to every observer of skin-sensations. The
genius of Fechner did not succeed in reducing their mani-
foldness to simple regularity. Such experiments seem to
show clearly that the perception of two points takes place
under conditions too varying and too different to be regarded
as the first tactual space-perception. Our tactual sense of
space seems to be far more exact and far more regular than
the perception of two points.

From these and similar experiments it seems that there is
no such thing as a 'space-threshold' in the entire field of
skin-sensations, because there is no sensation of touch, not
even that of a fine needle-point, which does not already pos-
sess a spatial quality. The latter does not enter into sensa-
tions of touch at the perception of two points. The mathe-
matical point, a point without extension, does not exist either
to sight or touch. Geometrical extension in one direction
begins with two points, but tactual extensity-perception
clearly begins with the comparison of simple tactual sensa-
tions. The difference between a point and a line like the
edge of a visiting-card is sooner perceived on the lower arm
at least, than the difference between two points, thus show-
ing that the perception of extensity through touch does not
depend upon the experience of more than one simple sensa-
tion. We are fully convinced that the sensation of one point,
however fine, has in it the data for abstracting three dimen-
sions by comparison with other points, i. e., by the usual

TWO POINTS NOT THE SPACE-THRESHOLD. $93

process of assimilation and discrimination which underlie all
perception. The space-threshold should be a certain moment
in sensations where extensity, i. e., spatiality, first enters
consciousness ; but the Raumschwelle of Weber and Fechner is
the moment where two simultaneous touches enter conscious-
ness which we have seen comes much later and under much
more varying conditions — it is in short not a Raumschwelle at
all. If we wish to speak of a space-threshold at all, we should
designate by the term a fact of assimilation rather than any
measurements on the surface of the skin. ' The fineness of
the locality sense ' (Feinheit des Ortsinnes) is, properly
speaking, the object of all such measurements, but never the
'space-threshold.' We have shown that single sensations
and double sensations are both indefinitely various, but the
variations are not without some regularity corresponding to
the outer stimulus. The single point, the line, the surface,
and even the solid, are all perceptions of touch which have
their origin in the subjective and objective conditions of the
sensations. In short, we have here a large field of sensa-
tions which has never been exhaustively investigated. Sen-
sations belonging to this field have, until very lately, been
regarded as mere hindrances to the ascertainment of the
Raumsc hive lie, and have been either ignored, as in the first
•experiments of Camerer and those of Vierordt's pupils, or
dealt with as food for psychic threshing-machines, such as
the formulas ot Fechner, Camerer and Miiller.

Finally, the conception of a Raumschwelle is nothing
more than a remnant of the old way, « von oben nach unten,'
of « Scholastic deduction,' which Fechner strove so faith-
fully to eradicate from psychology. It is the carrying
downward, ' von oben nach unten,' of a physiological and
mathematical conception — a reading into sensations of the
forms of a highly abstract intellect ; whereas the mathemati-
cal conception is in fact an abstract of the spatial quality of
sensations themselves. It may be that when psychologists
have studied sensations humbly and exhaustively they will
find among them, and in all of them, the germs of every
flower that blows — of both the form and substance of thought,
feeling, and will.

DISCUSSION AND REPORTS.
PHYSICAL PAIN.

Professor Strong's article in the July number of this REVIEW enti-
tled 'The Psychology of Pain' must be welcome by all who agree that
the determination of a correct psychological theory of pleasure and
pain is of importance at this time. As Prof. Strong has noticed my
work in this direction perhaps I may be allowed space to note a few
points in whicli I think his argument lacks cogency.

In the first place I am compelled to dissent from his use of the
term 'aspect theory' if it is to cover the hypothesis that I defend.
I use the expression 'quale theory' to describe the hypothesis I
adopt, for the very reason that I wish to place it in opposition to
the theory that holds 'that in every actual state of mind we are able
to distinguish these two sides, the cognitive and the affective;' this
affective side being 'called its feeling tone.' I object to drawing a
distinction between a cognitive and an affective side of an experience:
I do not believe there could be a feeling of pain without 'any con-
nection with or reference to cognitive states whatever:' to quote
Prof. Strong's words.

In my view 'awareness' of pleasure and of pain is brought about
by the same general process that brings to us our appreciation of
sensations of special qualities, our appreciation of the intensity of
those sensations, our appreciation of the reality or unreality of the
percepts which are elaborated as a result of these sensations. In
other words, I hold that pleasure and pain are cognized, just as
much as intensity is cognized, or just as much as reality is cognized.

Furthermore, I hold that if we assume a special 'affective' activ-
ity in all experience, which gives us our appreciation of pleasure and
pain; then we are bound also to assume a special mind action to
account for the- recognition of intensity, for the recognition of real-
ity, and in fact for our appreciation of an indefinite number of quali-
ties of experience. I may be allowed, perhaps, to refer the reader
to an article published in ' Mind ' for April in which I have spoken
of this point at some length. It seems to me that a large propor-
tion of the objections which Prof. Strong raises against the concep-
594

PHYSICAL PAIN. 595

tion of physical pain under the 'aspect theory' fail to present diffi-
culty under the ' quale theory ' which I defend, as I shall now attempt
to show.

But first of all I must say a word in general in protest against
the method that builds up a theory concerning some special mental
state, which has been deliberately separated off for theoretical study
from some other mental state which is by general acknowledgment
closely connected with it; and the setting forth of such a theory
without attempt to relate it to the experience connected with the
closely-connected state which for mere convenience of study we have
temporarily agreed to overlook.

Prof. Strong labors to gain a true conception of the nature of
physical pains without allowing the light given by the experience of
pleasure to shine upon his path. If it were necessary to empha-
size the danger of such study of pain as though it had no relation
to pleasure we might refer to the position in which the pains-
taking Goldscheider has found himself; he having proclaimed the
discovery of distinct pain terminals in the skin as the result of just
such a specialized study; but having been lately compelled to with-
draw his assertions. Had he studied with thoroughness the nature
of pleasure he would certainly have been induced to modify at the
start his first statements concerning pain, and would have saved
other psychologists at least a deal of discussion and annoyance.

In the second place, I must confess that I feel it to be a bold
assumption to separate physical pain from displeasure; for it seems
clear to me that all displeasures and pains are closely bound together
by the fact that they lead to like resultants in our life of thought
and expression; furthermore, even in the region of sensation where
the distinction between pain and mere displeasure is most marked,
it is certain that what is clearly no more than displeasure may often,
in connection with increase of intensity, develop into pain, without
the occurrence of any observable break in the experience.

But let us" for a moment consider, as does Prof. Strong, only
those so-called physical pains which, from the theoretical position
that I hold, are in fact no more than certain specially vivid portions
of the pain part of the general pleasure-pain field.

Concerning the lesson to be learned from neurology, I agree with
Prof. Strong that the facts of nerve physiology as we know them do
not establish the 'quale theory' which is under discussion, and that
they are certainly far from overthrowing it. I cannot help thinking,
however, that Prof. Strong has to some degree exaggerated the

5 96 DISCUSSION AND KEPOR TS.

difficulties in this direction, and has therefore underestimated the
strength of the favorable evidence.

I have suggested that the so-called 'pain sense' in the skin which
is produced by cutting or pricking or by some other violent disturb-
ance in the tissues may not improbably be merely a special sensation
which, under the conditions of experiment, is always experienced in painful
phase : that this special sensation in its non-painful phases we may sup-
pose we are unable to separate in analysis, it thus remaining an insep-
arable part of some of the complex sensations brought out by pressure
or by some other dermal irritations of moderate degree. This seems
to bring into line with the quale theory the fact of which opponents
make so much; viz., that cutting and pricking is always painful to
the average man in his normal state; nor does the hypothesis seem
to me to be a strained one.

That the pain-giving capacities of the tactile or temperature
senses are discerned with difficulty is true, but I do not think with
Prof. Strong that we are forced by the evidence to admit that the
'affective coloring' of the tactile and temperature sensations 'never
amounts to positive pain.' What we are compelled to admit by the
evidence to which he refers is that the patient who is anaesthetic (and
hence of course analgesic) as to the 'cutting, pricking sensation,' is
often rendered analgesic in other directions, without being rendered
anaesthetic, in these directions; and, as Wundt has shown, it is very
easy to conceive that this latter condition may occur through a
reduction of our capacity to be stimulated to the degree necessary
to the production of the proper sensations in painful phase.

It is not at all necessary, therefore, to admit that when under
normal conditions we perceive a painful burn, the pain and the heat
are called forth by separate nerve fibres.

It does not seem to me to be at all clear that sight, hearing,
taste and smell are in their nature analgesic, although Foster, Gold-
scheider and others do so declare.

The sensations from the non-retinal parts of the eye are so inti-
mately connected in consciousness with those arising by stimulation
of the rods and cones that determination of this point in connection
with sight seems to me to be well nigh impossible.

A similar difficulty arises in connection with stimulation of specific
Clements of the organ of Corti in the ear.

No one would claim that tastes and smells cannot be intensely
disagreeable, I myself should say that they can be distinctly painful,
although it is to be agreed that in these cases the limits of the action
are so narrow, if we may so speak, that it is difficult to compare

PHYSICAL PAIN. 597

these pains with the pains produced by cutting where the number
of nerve terminals that are at one time stimulated to great excess
is in all probability very much greater. Moreover, there is every
reason to believe that in both nose and mouth excessive stimulation
calls out functioning in other organs than those of smell and taste,
functioning which we find entirely beyond our control, and which
tends to prevent that excessive reaction to the hypernormal stimulus,
which is necessary to the production of marked painfulness.

It must not be forgotten, moreover, that very many of our sen-
sations come into clear consciousness only as the result of the sum-
mation of many activities which individually are of too small
effectiveness to be appreciable in our conscious life at all: this is
evident for instance with our normal experience of atmospheric cold
and heat, and with the sensations connected with the rubbing of
surfaces. It must be remembered also that in many cases we are
unable to separate the sensational elements in a pulse of conscious-
ness from their products or resultants of a more complex nature:
and this is notably the case with reference to the mental states in-
duced by the stimulation of eye or ear.

It should not surprise us, therefore, that we find it difficult to
discriminate pleasure or pain in connection with many sensations
which are themselves difficult to isolate.

Turning now to introspective analysis I would say that the diffi-
culties first suggested by Prof. Strong disappear if one hold, as I do
in opposition to most of the 'aspect theorists,' that in most cases,
indeed, all sensations are accompanied by at least a minimum of
pleasure or of pain, but that there are cases where it must be sup-
posed that neither pleasure nor pain exists, but that then at the same
time there exists no 'feeling tone' whatever. The notion that in
such cases there must be a zero 'feeling tone' is determined by the
view that in every actual state of mind we are able to distinguish an
affective side over against the cognitive side; and to this view I
dissent, as I have said above.

That in cases of extreme pain we usually fail to distinguish the
forms of sensibility to which the pain is attached, is a phenomenon
of attention that, to my mind, presents no especial difficulty if we
conceive of the pain as I do as a particular quality of the presenta-
tion of which the sensational differentiation is another quality. It
is of great importance to our welfare that our attention should be
engrossed by the fact that we are experiencing an extreme pain, and
there is no reason whatever, so far as I can see, to be surprised that

598 DISCUSSION AND REPORTS.

it often does so, to the loss of appreciation of the sensational quality
that goes with the pain.

Comparison of this experience of attention to pain, with our ex-
perience of attention to other qualities of presentation seems to me
to confirm this view. The psycho-physicist in experiments made to
determine the laws of intensity is surely able to turn his attention
solely to the graduation of the intensity, and in so doing he certainly
loses appreciation of the specific mental element which is more
or less intense. In a more developed form of consciousness we note
at times a persistence of attention upon such a quality as the reality
of a perceptual presentation; the questioning as to the reality or the
non-reality in such cases becoming all absorbing, so that we alto-
gether lose our appreciation of the elements which form the basis of
the quality of realness that we are considering.

From Prof. Strong's conclusion "that pain is distinctly the con-
tent of certain cutaneous sensations, as blue of certain visual ones,"
I of course dissent, not only on theoretical grounds but also as the
result of introspective evidence as I view it.

But suppose this were all true, I still cannot help thinking it
would be an error to class pain (or pleasure) together with states
like heat, cold, touch, taste, smell, hearing, sight, which are com-
monly known as 'sensations,' if for no other reason than this, that
heat, cold, touch, taste, smell, hearing, sight, are all determined by
the special action of differential terminal organs, answering to special
forms of stimuli in the environment : hearing, for instance, answers only
to vibrations in the air, sight answers only to vibrations in the hypo-
thetical ether.

Whatever may be thought as to the probability of the discovery
in the future of terminal organs for physical pain, I think it must be
granted that there is no evidence whatever that there exists any
special form of environmental stimulus to which physical pain can
be the special correspondent; and if there were no reason other
than this, it seems to me that it would be a great mistake to place
in the well recognized class 'sensation,' a mental state like pain
which lacks one of the most marked characteristics of sensation in
general.

Physical pains and sensations may properly be designated as
forms of sensibility but surely they must be held to be forms of
sensibility of different types.

NEW YORK. HENRY RUTGERS MARSHALL.

SUBJECTIVE PAIN. 599

A CASE OF SUBJECTIVE PAIN.

I operated upon Mrs. P. for glaucoma, a disease which is char-
acterized by hardness of the eyeball, great pain, and diminution of
the power of seeing. Although cocaine was used, the patient expe-
rienced considerable discomfort from the speculum and decided pain
from the incision in the cornea and the cutting of the iris.

In fact, when the knife was thrust into the anterior chamber, she
almost rose to a sitting posture and attempted to grasp my hands.
When the iris was cut she rolled the eyeball very far upward and
rendered the procedure both difficult to perform and dangerous to
the integrity of the crystalline lens. The operation, however, was
finished without injury to this structure, and the eye made a suc-
cessful and fortunate recovery. The evening following the after-
noon on which the operation was performed, the patient suffered
considerable pain, for which there was no apparent cause. During
one of the most painful paroxysms she thought, by chance, of a
young girl who was friendly and agreeable to her and of whom she
was fond. She said the painful sensations passed away ' like a
wave ' as soon as the image of the girl was called up. As soon as
the agreeable image passed away the pain returned. Being of an
investigating mind, the patient proceeded to call up in succession
the images of persons agreeable and of those disagreeable. The
agreeable images invariably caused relief and the disagreeable ones
produced a 'wave of pain.'

She said that the pain produced by the disagreeable images
was greater than that which followed upon the disappearance
of the pleasant images. The relief caused by the image of her
agreeable little friend was so much greater than that produced by
any other agreeable image, that she schooled herself to keep this
image constantly before her until she fell asleep through the influ-
ence of an anodyne; on the following day the phenomena had dis-
appeared. It is worthy of remark that the other eye of this patient
had been operated upon one year before, and although the pain
after the operation was greater and the recovery more prolonged,
she had no experience as that related. It is also well to state that
the performance of the first operation was attended by less pain
than the second.

The patient is a highly intelligent person of sixty odd years, sen-
sible and practical, albeit a little given to the use of extravagant
and poetic expressions.

The case is unique in my experience, and that it is curious and
interesting I think may be predicated with certainty.

NEW YORK POLYCLINIC. J- HERBERT CLAIBORNE.

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE.

The Foundations of Belief . A. J. BALFOUR. New York, Longmans,,
Green, & Co., 1895. Pp. 366.

This book considers beliefs, or certain important classes of them,
from three points of view : from the point of view of their practical
necessity; from that of their philosophic proof; and from that of
their scientific origin. Part I, consisting of four chapters, deals with
the first topic under the title, 'Some Consequences of Belief;' part
II, also of four chapters, considers the second topic under the title,
'Some Reasons for Belief;' part III, consisting of two chapters,
treats of the third under the heading, 'Some Causes of Belief/
The work closes with a fourth part entitled ' Some Suggestions
towards a Provisional Philosophy.'

One cannot read the suggestive and often acute discussions of
the book without the feeling that the cause of English conservative
politics has robbed British philosophy, in the person of Mr. Balfour,,
of a man whose name might have had an honorable place in the list
of British thinkers. As it is, the production of such a work by one
of the active political leaders of the Conservative Party, is a most
interesting phenomenon. The book more than sustains the expecta-
tions raised by the author's earlier work, ' A Defence of Philosophic
Doubt.'

The book is stronger in its critical than in its constructive por-
tions, and often reminds one of the brilliant criticisms of the late
Prof. Caro of Paris. In saying that the work is especially strong on
the critical side, we do not wish to imply that the criticisms are at
all captious. The tone of the author is uniformly fair, and his treat-
ment of views with which he differs, even generous. The discussions
are more philosophical than psychological, and viewed from the
philosophical standpoint the work may be characterized as a critical
examination of, and an attack on, the rather shallow empiricism (to
which the author gives the name 'Naturalism'), which has reigned
for so long a time in Great Britain. It is an attack too which Natur-
alism can hardly afford to ignore.
600

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 6oi

The book contains considerable matter of interest to psychol-
ogists. Mr. Balfour's remarks on determinism, on * experience,' on
the relation of belief to language, on the relation of belief to reality
and on the so-called 'immediate judgments of the senses,' and on
numerous other topics are worthy of the psychologist's notice. His
discussion of the non-rational causes of belief as distinguished from
the rational grounds for belief, and of the influence of psychological
* climates' on belief (pp. 214 f.), are especially good. These are
distinctions which seem natural, and even obvious, and yet they are
very often overlooked. Inner assent, or belief, as the author points
out, is produced in countless cases by custom, education, public
opinion, the contagious convictions of countrymen, family, party, or
church. " But a small number, at least of the most important and
fundamental beliefs, are held by persons who could give reasons for
them, and of this small number only an inconsiderable fraction are
held in consequence of the reasons by which they are nominally sup-
ported." " Mere early training, paternal authority, or public opinion,
are causes of belief before they are reasons; they continue to act as
non-rational causes after they become reasons." Looked at from the
outside, as one among the complex conditions which produce belief,
reason appears relatively insignificant and ineffectual; looked at from
the inside, it claims by an inalienable title to be supreme. These
are distinctions, we repeat, which have not, perhaps, received the
consideration which they deserve in the treatment of the psychology
of belief. Mr. Balfour in his discussion of psychological 'climates'
and their relation to the rational grounds for belief, does not give as
much weight as we think he should give to the inner state of mind
to which Prof. Huxley alludes in his remark that "belief is the pro-
duct of two factors, the first is the state of the mind to which the
evidence in favor of that belief is presented; and the second is the
logical cogency of the evidence itself;" but the discussion is, never-
theless, one which will repay reading by those interested in the
psychological and epistemological aspects of belief.

YALE UNIVERSITY. GEO. M. DUNCAN.

Dolore e Piacere, Storia naturale dei sentimenti. GIUSEPPI SERGI.
Milano, Dumolard, 1894. 12°, pp. 395.

Professor Sergi's book has for its frontispiece Edinger's sche-
matic diagram of the nuclei of the medulla oblongata and pons, and
its author's cardinal idea is that this region constitutes a great cen-
tre for pleasure, pain, and emotional excitement generally. There
are other secondary theses, and the whole is preceded by certain
psychogenetic theories to which I will refer first.

602 DO LORE E PI AC ERE.

The primordial property of all living matter may be called irri-
tability or reagibility. In its simplest state this is merely trophic, but
as tissues differentiate and combine into systems, the irritability of
the muscular system becomes contractility, and that of the nervous
system sensibility. Sensibility is at first unconscious ; but at a certain
stage of complication conscious sensibility arises. This latter is
nothing essentially new, but only a 'transformation' of the one
primordial irritability, of which, however, a large proportion remains
' untransformed ' even to the .end — even in the highest animals and
man. Prof. Sergi proves the essential identity of all the grades of
irritability by experiments with anaesthetics. These narcotize and
paralyze the motor reactions of the simplest animalcules as well as
the highest consciousness of man. The reader will note the monistic
point of view ('transformation'), and the divergence from the as-
sumption, so popular just now, of psycho-physiological 'parallelism.'

Unconscious sensibility becomes then conscious sensation, and
sensation and movement, being both transformations of irritability,
are inversely related — the more movement the less immediate sensa-
tion, as we may observe in infants and women (61-2). When the
outer stimuli are normal in amount the sensations are 'specific,'
objective, and cerebrally localized. They are painful when the
stimuli are excessive. [What appear to be 'pains of inaction,' or
want, are really pains either of excessive tension in the unused mus-
cles or of abnormal irritation by altered blood, as in thirst, etc.]
Excessive stimuli, at the same time that they produce pain, alter
the heart-action and the breathing, even in animals without hemi-
spheres. Seeing, then, that pain and disturbance of these vital
functions vary concomitantly, Prof. Sergi concludes that they are
both functions of the same region, that of the calamus scriptorius.
"The cerebrum has no other action in pain (or pleasure) than that
of rendering the phenomenon conscious [this is not explained]: only by
this does the latter gain an intellective character, and also because
some pains are percepts, being localized " (73). That the brain is
not the immediate organ of pain, is also proved by the painlessness of
wounds there, an insensibility in striking contrast with the extreme
distress caused by sensible excitement of the heart and respiration.
Pleasure conies from liberation from pain or want and quickly passes
into indifference, as in the deviation of the needle when the electric
current stops. Positive pleasures of stimulation (as at a banquet)
also exist, and carry diffused organic effects, and are also referred
by our author to the bulbar region.

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITER ATUKE. 603

Emotions result from outer stimuli exciting first the cortex, then
consecutively the bulbar region, and consequently the circulatory
and respiratory organs. Psychic emotion and bodily pain and plea-
sure thus have the same vital centre for their organ, which is played
on from below by physical stimuli and from above by psychical activi-
ties. In other words, emotion is cortically initiated pleasure or pain-
James and Lange are wrong in not finally referring it to the bulbar
centre, which is the primordial emotional centre; but the special
character of the various emotions is determined by subaltern cen-
tres, little psychic organisms, determined by the association of race-
experiences, which always cooperate with the primary centre and
impress on fear, anger, etc., their special and distinctive characters.
The chief of these ' instinctive ' centres are that for individual pres-
ervation, and the sexual, the parental and the social centres. [Prof.
Sergi doesn't make it clear whether these secondary centres are cor-
tical or infra-cortical. Neither does he say distinctly which physi-
ological phase of the process he believes the emotional consciousness
to be attached to, whether directly to the bulbar discharges or (as
in the Lange-James theory) to the motor effects of the same.
Pretty surely the latter, as he speaks elsewhere (p. 105) of the hemi-
spheres as ' means of consciousness ' of the more vital phenomena.
Cf. also pp. 129, 131, 140, etc.] The difference between depressive
and expansive emotions is explained by inertia or reaction on the part
of the centres. One and the same objective stimulus, according to
its own strength or the temporary state of the nervous system, may
simply shock the latter into a state of paralysis (producing, e. g.,
fear) or rouse it into resistance (producing, e. g., anger). Much is
made of these two opposite kinds of effect.

The genesis of emotions is teleological. Like pleasure and pain
they are (within limits) signs of benefit or harm, and lead to actions
of preservation or defense. This is explained at length in one chap-
ter, and a new classification of emotions, based on their characters
of transiency and permanence, inertia and reaction, is set forth in
another. Other chapters contain descriptions of special emotions,
their variations and exciting conditions, normal and pathological;
and finally we have seven chapters on the Senthnents, aesthetic and
religious. The latter has been a sometimes useful pathological
variation in human history. The aesthetic sentiments do not coex-
ist with useful activities, but, as Spencer says, with activities that
are symbolic, superfluous or playful. This, however, is compatible
with an originally serious use for functions that now are purely
aesthetic. Love-songs and war-dances are an example. The pleasure

'604 DO LORE E PI ACE RE.

in all cases is mediated by the effect on the bulbar centre, as the
author shows in detail for the case of music, the hearing of which
alters pulse and breathing. There are in these chapters a number
of fine observations of detail and descriptions of aesthetically im-
pressive situations that show well the beauty of the Italian language.
But, on the whole, the author's treatment is superficial, and the
complexity of the aesthetic life hardly comes out in his pages. The
same criticism may be made of his entire book. It would have been
'epoch-making' thirty years or more ago; but after so much specu-
lation of the same sort has been printed, the reader has a right to
statements that are less general and vague. In fact the only thing
I can think of as a new fact deduced by Prof. Sergi is contained in
his observation that, since bodily and spiritual sensibility both have
the medulla for their seat, it is impossible that the same person
should be highly sensitive in one way and insensible in the other.

W. J.

Logik der Geisteswissenschaften. Zweite Abtheilung des zweiten
Bandes der Logik. Zweite umgearbeitete Auflage. W. WUNDT.
Stuttgart, Enke, 1895. Pp. 643. M. 15.

In the first edition (1883) the methods of the philosophical sci-
ences were included as a part of the second volume. The enlarge-
ment, which has resulted in a separate volume on this subject in the
present edition, is due in part to additions in the discussion of Juris-
prudence, and to a new extended section on sociology. Much
more important, however, are the elaborations in the treatment of
the fundamental principles relating to all these sciences, and of psy-
chology, regarded as * the most general philosophical science, and at
the same time the indispensable groundwork of all the rest.'

A full description is given of the two methods peculiar to these
sciences, namely, interpretation or the explanation of a phenomenon
through a psychical motive, and criticism or the determination of
4 values;' together with an account of the special modifications of
the more general methods which belong to the natural sciences as
well. The principles, namely, analogy with our own experience,
influence of social and influence of physical environment, which we
make use of in the study of all physical, historical and social phe-
nomena, are discussed at length. It is maintained that empirical
laws, in the same sense in which this term is used in the natural sci-
ences, are to be found in the philosophical sciences; but exceptions
to these laws occur not only through the operation of other general
laws, but also through individual acts, which are, indeed, in accord-
ance with psychical laws, but not general in their appearance. The

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 60$

•only causal laws in the philosophical sciences are the psychical laws
of individual experience. It is this fact which makes Individual
Psychology the foundation science on which all the rest must ulti-
mately base their explanations. The treatment of the Logic of
Psychology forms, therefore, an important part of the general sys-
tem; and is, further, of peculiar interest as a thoroughly revised
and in many points new exposition of the author's views in this field
where his influence is of such prime importance.

The general position is the inevitable logical consequence of the
well-known doctrine of parallelism. Since the psychical world is in
no way causally connected with the physical, but an independent
unity in itself, it is evident that a science dealing with psychical
phenomena can make no immediate use of physical facts, but must
formulate its laws and even its methods on an exclusively psychical
basis. This position is emphasized by a vigorous attack upon what
the author calls psycho-physical materialism, or the definition of
psychology which makes it the mission of this science to investigate
the physical and physiological conditions of psychical phenomena.
Still more is the standpoint made clear by a complete revision of the
description and even the nomenclature of the experimental methods.
An example will serve to illustrate. Instead of the common names
* Fehlermethoden ' and ' rechte und falsche Falle, we have ' Abzdh-
lungsmethoden' and 'positive und negative Fdlle.1 The reason for
this 'change is that the old names imply that the psychical process is
being directly measured by the physical stimulus, and is ' right ' or
"* wrong ' in so far as it agrees with the stimulus or not. This impli-
cation is, however, based upon the false notion that a causal rela-
tion exists between the physical and psychical worlds. In reality no
such relation can be assumed ; and psychical processes can be com-
pared only among themselves, measurement being possible in the
sense of such exclusively psychical comparisons alone. The whole
value and significance of the stimulus is that we employ it as a
means to produce the parallel psychical process at a time and under
circumstances favorable for comparison with other psychical pro-
cesses and for more exact observation. The importance of the
physical agent as such a means is not to be lost sight of, for it is the
only way in which self-observation, in any true scientific sense, can
be made possible. But, on the other hand, it is not to be forgotten,
as is so often the case, that the means is not the end. In other
words, the study of the physical and physiological means is merely
auxiliary and preparative, not the final science. Psycho-physics and
physiological psychology are to be regarded as transitional stages,
not as the real science of psychology.

606 THINKING, FEELING, DOING.

The author's position may be further briefly characterized as
'Voluntarism.' By means of logical abstraction we divide our com-
plex psychical experiences into elements, among which the one kind
that we call volition may be said to be typical. Not that we are to neg-
lect the other elements or attempt to reduce them to cases of volition,
but we are to think of all psychical experiences as unitary processes,
like volition. It is to be noted that the word processes must be
emphasized as much as unitary if we will truly describe the transi-
tory character of psychical experience.

Finally, the name 'Actualism' will serve to define the author's
view of the nature of the soul as opposed to * Substantialism.'

LEIPZIG. CHAS. H. JUDD.

Thinking, Feeling, Doing. E. W. SCRIPTURE. Meadville, Flood &
Vincent, 1895. Pp. XII -f 304.

This book leaves still unanswered the question whether experi-
mental psychology can at the present time be popularized in a use-
ful and dignified manner. It demonstrates beyond the shadow of
a doubt, however, its author's entire unfitness for such a task. Few
things have been neglected to make the book bad, and many a
reader who, like the present writer, had looked to Dr. Scripture for
something substantial and withal creditable to American scholar-
ship, will turn away honestly and thoroughly disappointed. The
few redeeming features of the book are found in the generally good
typographical work, the ingenuity of some of the methods described*
the accuracy of the facts cited, and the clear, if not elegant, style.
For the last two characteristics Dr. Scripture is not wholly respon-
sible, as will appear below.

The title of the book indicates something of the nature of the
contents, but very little of the method or order of presentation.
The opening chapter, on observation and experiment, is followed by
six chapters on reaction-times and the peculiarities of will and atten-
tion as revealed by experimentation. Then follow seven chapters
upon sense perceptions, one each upon feeling, emotion, memory,
rhythmic action and suggestion in the order named, concluding with
two chapters upon the general subject of psychological standpoint
and method, of which the one is entitled materialism and spiritual-
ism, the other the new psychology.

Dr. Scripture may be possessed of a deep and well-conceived
method in the arrangement of his material; but, if so, the fact does-
not intrude itself upon the reader's attention. The chapters read
almost equally well in either direction, and one's logical instincts
are somewhat baffled by the fact. A fatal weakness of the book lies

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 607

just here. There is no vital principle within it. Disjecta membra
are all that the eager public, for whom we are given to understand
the book is expressly written, is privileged to see. These are pre-
sented, however, with all the graphic prodigality of a popular
monthly. Two hundred and ten cuts to two hundred and ninety-five
pages of text is all that the most extravagant pictorial appetite could
ask. The author will probably insist, with his usual — and admirable —
reverence for fact, that his book possesses all the vital unity consist-
ent with the present stock of experimentally verified data. If this
be really the case, the work might better have been postponed for a
few years. But, in the opinion of the reviewer, Dr. Scripture's lack
of system is quite as largely due to his lack of a deep and sound
conception of what really constitutes a fact and wherein lies its
value. He has become psychologically myopic. This opinion is con-
firmed by a certain cocksureness of tone characterizing the book,
which must arouse the suspicions of even the most unsophisticated
reader. Among the more knowing these suspicions will be at once
awakened upon reading in the preface that "this is the first book on
the new, or experimental, psychology written in the English lan-
guage." Dr. Scripture may possess sufficient exegetical agility to
harmonize these words with the facts; but, with Sanford's manual
already in the field, his statement is at least misleading.

In a work largely devoted to expounding the value of accuracy,
it is most unfortunate to find such gross carelessness in the use of
quotation marks as Dr. Scripture's book reveals. A mere statement
of the facts will suffice. If the author has any explanation to offer,
common fairness demands a suspension of judgment until he has
been heard. If he has not, comment on the part of the reviewer is
quite superfluous. Summarized the case stands thus. In Chapter
XXI, Dr. Scripture has occasion to quote from Wundt's 'Human
and Animal Psychology.' In these passages the English varies
widely from that of the Creighton and Titchener translation of this
work.1 But throughout nearly the whole of Chapter XVII, where
the author vaguely states that he « follows ' Wundt, the English is
not only a translation of the German, but is, furthermore, identical
with that of the published translation just mentioned, save for a few
rare cases in which synonyms have been employed and the order
slightly changed.9 In the same chapter, even before the expression

The parallel passages are herewith given :

Thinking, Feeling, and Doing. C. & T. trans. Wundt's Human and

Animal Psychology.

1 Pages 276 ff Pages 2 ff-

'Pages 226-38 Pages 372-80.

608 THINKING, FEELING, DOING.

of intention to follow Wundt, occurs a sentence which is identical
with one in the Creighton and Titchener translation.3 In another
passage, a page in length, in which occurs no least suggestion of
indebtedness of any kind, the language is absolutely identical with
a portion of the Creighton and Titchener text.4 After completing
the quotation cited in Note (*) on last page, he continues for several
pages to follow Wundt, in a way which is much more nearly trans-
lation than paraphrase, and this with no intimation of obligation.6

The whole book, and especially the concluding chapter, is essen-
tially a panegyric upon the 'new psychology,' by which the author
means experimental psychology of the laboratory kind. In his con-
tempt for what he is pleased to call 'arm-chair psychology,' Dr.
Scripture is no more virulent than are such writers as Dr. Ward in
their denunciations of Dr. Scripture's school. But there are surely
many of us who feel that both parties represent a somewhat obstin-
ate extremism, and that there is a very vigorous, hopeful move-
ment which may properly claim for its endeavors the fortunately
vague title of the new psychology. This movement, if it manifests no
sympathy for the acrid strictures of Dr. Ward, is equally guiltless of
any such cramped and one-sided view as that appearing in the words,
if not the meaning, of Dr. Scripture's book. Despite their many
shortcomings, the psychological works which the American press
alone has produced in the last few years bear ample evidence to the
existence of a thoroughly sound empirical spirit, which is ready
to accept all facts that can present unquestionably trustworthy cre-
dentials, whether from Dr. Scripture's laboratory or his colleague's
arm-chair, which has an eye to the vast extent of consciousness
throughout the organic universe, its abnormal or unusual manifesta-
tions as well as its commoner forms, and which is not afraid to fail in
framing and testing hypotheses for such facts as are already at hand;
convinced that to search for facts without at the same time search-
ing for their implications, is a shade less rational than the cele-
brated expedition after the Snark. Were Dr. Scripture's extremism
to become legal tender, psychology would be well-nigh bankrupt,
and his book is, perhaps, the best proof of this. In it we are,
indeed, confronted by a " string of raw facts." We can afford to be
grateful for everything the laboratories give us, and we may be as

Thinking, Feeling, and Doing, C. & T. trans. Wundt's Human and

Animal Psychology.
1 Page 226 Page 372.

4 Pages 272-3 Pages 267-8.

5 Pages 278-81 Pages 6-7.

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 609

optimistic as we please in hoping for their future, but to convey to
the public the impression that all other work is balderdash, and that
we have anything but the crude beginnings of a science, is to lead
the blind into a pit; and against this the reviewer, as an advocate
of the laboratories, must heartily protest.

UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO. JAMES ROWLAND ANGELL.

Die Umwdlzung der Wahrnehmungshypothesen durch die mechanische
Methode. Nebst einem Beitrag uber die Grenzen der physiologischen
Psychologies H. SCHWARZ. Leipzig, Duncker & Humblot, 1895.
Pp. xx + 198, ii -f 213.

Dr. Schwarz writes from the realistic point of view, and frankly
avows his obligations to Uphues and Twardowski. Indeed, he goes
so far as to say, in a note to page 93, that ' Die richtige Erkennt-
niss in der Erkenntnissfrage ' will not be widespread until the views
of these two philosophers have been generally accepted. Yet the
historical analysis which he has here undertaken of the conditions
under which the old naive belief in the objective reality of colors
and sounds was given up, is on the whole impartial, and will be read
with profit by those who have not yet accepted the only true solu-
tion of the epistemological problem as propounded by Uphues,
Twardowski and Schwarz.

The first section, entitled * Das Problem des unmittelbaren
Erkennens,' exhibits the displacement of the older scholastic theo-
ries as to the means whereby the outer object affects the cognizant
subject, by the mechanical theories of Hobbes and Descartes. As
representatives of scholasticism, Dr. Schwarz selects Suarez's theory
of intermediate species, conceived as qualities in flight from object
to subject; Thomas Aquinas' doctrine of a phantasm or 'fictum*
evolved by the subject out of its own substance in the form of the
perceived object; and Gabriel Bid's nominalistic repudiation of both
in favor of an unexplained action from a distance by the object upon
the subject. Hobbes originally held the still older view of Demo-
critus, that material objects are perceived by means of material par-
ticles which they constantly throw off into space, and he attacked the
species theory from that standpoint. Later he became acquainted
with Galileo's doctrines and adopted a conception analogous to that
now prevalent: that the outer object works upon the sense-organ by
means of some form of motion. Descartes, a mathematician from
the outset, was led to a similar conclusion by the desire to bring all
departments of knowledge within the domain of mathematics; and
this he saw could be done in the realm of psychology only by ex-

6lO DIE UMW&LZUNG DER WAHRNEHMUNGSHYPOTHESEN.

pressing all mental phenomena in terms of motion. Yet in both
Hobbes and Descartes we find traces of older conceptions. To
Hobbes' mind the modes of motion, whereby the outer object is
made known to the subject, are possessed of the same mysterious
representative function which the scholastics ascribed to the inter-
mediate species : in some way the mental states they beget in the
subject are to be conceived as copies of the outer object. Des-
cartes practically holds to the scholastic doctrine of the 'fictum,' in
that he denies of the impressions of sense all true reality; and he
also holds Suarez's doctrine, that the real object can be directly
cognized by an intellectual 'hapsis.'

The second section, entitled * Das Problem der Sinnesqualitaten,'
seeks to unravel the motives that led Hobbes and Descartes to deny
the objective existence of colors and sounds. Hobbes can find in
them no reality whatever, unless it be the reality that attaches to
them as modes of brain motion ; and this is the natural outcome of
the attempt to exalt the mechanical method, the true object of which
is- to bring order into the flux of sensation by means of mathemati-
cal concepts, into a metaphysic. According to Descartes, sensa-
tions are accidents of the composite of body and soul which we call
man, and their function is to guard it against dangers. Descartes'
tendency to deny true reality of sensations and to allow them but an
obscure and dim mode of existence, is traceable to the fact that sen-
sations are incapable of being wrought into mathematical calcula-
tions ; and this, to a mind of Descartes' type, was sufficient ground
for ignoring them.

It is worthy of note that the mechanical method of modern
science is not based alone upon the preference we accord touch sen-
sations— from which our wave conceptions are for the most part
drawn — but upon the fact that, by means of these conceptions, we
can make the phenomena of color and sound intelligible and pre-
dictible. Otherwise it would remain conceivable that sciences of
acoustics and optics might be developed which would deal with colors
and sounds directly, without the intervention of such auxiliary con-
ceptions. As it is, however, these sciences are sciences, not because
they have been reduced to a touch basis, but because they have been
reduced to a mathematical basis ; and as no other mathematical basis
can be found for them, we may safely assume that our present
mechanical method is the final method of optics and acoustics.

The 'Beitrag' is entirely independent of the balance of the vol-
ume and is practically a critique of Exner's ' Entwurf zu einer physi-
ologischen Erklarung der psychischen Erscheinungen,' which the

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITEKATURE. 6l I

author is inclined to regard as the capstone of the great scientific
structure begun by Galileo, Hobbes and Descartes . . . "It devolves,
then, upon the philosopher and the psychologist to see to it that his
science, in so far as it assumes the validity of other than mechanical
conceptions, is not crushed, suffocated, by this crowning develop-
ment of the scientific Weltauffassung."

The main force of Dr. Schwarz's criticism is directed against two
of Exner's fundamental assumptions. If we grant, he argues, that
cortical processes are always essentially the same in character, and
are differentiated from one another only in intensity and locality, it is
conceivable that they form the basis of affective consciousness,
since it is capable of variation in two modes only — quality and inten-
sity; but it is not possible to conceive them as the basis of sensa-
tions, since sensations are possessed of a third characteristic, out-
ness or position in space, and for this there would remain no physi-
ological expression. The objection cannot be evaded by regarding
position in space as a mode of sensations. Furthermore, since sensa-
tion and feeling are themselves distinct series of conscious events,
the physiological terms in which the one finds expression will not
serve for the other. The attempt to reduce feeling to muscle sen-
sation must be regarded as a failure.

Again, if we assume with Exner that coalescence of conscious
states is due to coalescence of their cortical processes, we fail to
understand the actual diversity of consciousness. We should expect
that all coexistent cortical processes would coalesce with one another
and consciousness would exhibit a constant progression from one
total state to another, whereas, in fact, we find infinite diversity.

UNIV. OF PENNSYLVANIA. W. R. NEW BOLD.

Monism as Connecting Religion and Science. ERNST HA ECKEL. Eng.
trans, by J. Gilchrist. New York, Macmillan, 1894. Pp. 117.

This address, delivered by the author at Altenburg on the sev-
enty-fifth anniversary of the ' Naturforschende Gesellschaft des
Oesterlandes,' sets forth a naturalistic Pantheism. It states in clear
terms a monistic theory of the universe construed in a naturalistic
manner. By Monism is meant "that there lives one spirit in all things,
and that the whole cognizable world is constituted and has been
developed in accordance with one common fundamental law." The
author lays emphasis on the essential unity of inorganic and organic
nature; the latter, he claims, having developed from the former at
a comparatively late period, there being no absolute distinction
between them any more than between animal and man. The author

6l2 GENERAL.

then speaks of human knowledge, saying: "Similarly we regard the
whole of human knowledge as a structural unity ; in this sphere we
refuse to accept the distinction usually drawn between the natural
and the spiritual. The latter is only a part of the former (or vice
versa] ; both are one." Haeckel seeks to prove this by arguments
from both the subjective and objective standpoints. From the
former he cites the evolution of knowledge in the human race, and
mentions what he terms the advance from Anthropomorphism to
Monism. From the latter or objective standpoint he uses as his
proof the law of the conservation of energy and matter. Uniting
energy and matter, he starts with 'animated atoms.' In this con-
nection the author goes on to show the results of the evolution the-
ory in the development of the organic from the inorganic, and con-
sciousness from the former. "Immortality, in a scientific sense, is
conservation of substance, therefore the same as conservation of
energy as denned by physics or conservation of matter as defined by
chemistry." God, he says, can be represented as * the infinite sum of
all natural forces.' Haeckel expects to be accused of materialism, but
claims that this is a mere 'party word,' and that spiritualism would
describe his theory quite as well. The address is Spinozism in the
garb of modern science.

PRINCETON. C. W. HODGE.

GENERAL.

Eemerkungen zum Begriff des Gegenstandes der Psychologic. R. AVENA-
RIUS. Viertelj. f. wiss. Phil. Hefte II, IV, 1894; I, II, 1895.

The writer has undertaken through an analysis of experience in
its most comprehensive sense to determine the essential character,
relations, and extent of that special form of experience which we
call psychical. As soon as we begin to reflect we find that our ex-
perience consists of two equally immediate and indispensable ele-
ments, an ego — including all that belongs to the so-called me, as
thoughts, emotions and desires — in the midst of an environment — the
complex commonly known in philosophy as the non-ego. These
two elements can never be thought of as appearing separately; every
actual or 'complete' experience must contain both.

Before proceeding to further analysis, it is important to show the
fallacy contained in the division of experience into 'inner* and
'outer.' It is evident that this distinction does not exist in the im-
mediate individual experience, but is derived from an interpretation
of the experience of others. Among the constituents of my envi-
ronment are beings who behave and express themselves as I do;

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 613

seek certain ends and avoid others as I do; in short, appear to hold
exactly the same relation to their environment that I do to mine.,
I, therefore, conclude that they are in reality just such beings as I
am. This conclusion is, however, nothing more than an hypothesis
based on analogy, for the acts of my fellowmen must always remain,
in so far as my immediate experience is concerned, mechanical pro*
cesses like all other movements in my environment. And it is clear
that, since analogy is my only ground for attributing to these acts a
more than mechanical significance, in other words, for assuming that
they belong to experiences like my own, I am not justified in intro-
ducing into my interpretation of these experiences any content or
process that I do not find immediately present in my own. This,
however, is just what is done, when instead of recognizing an ego
and a non-ego as equally essential elements of another's experience, \
'intraject' the non-ego element into the ego and regard it as an
* inner' process or modification which I call a perception.

A complete experience in the sense above defined exists in reality
only as an inseparable unity. Logically, on the other hand, we may
divide it by abstracting from one of the elements or parts of the
elements. In this case we have 'partial experiences' which, it is to
be emphasized, are not realities, distinct from each other and from
the complete experience, but logical fictions, or various ways of re-
garding one and the same experience. What we call physical expe-
rience, for example, is not a special kind of experience in the dual-
istic sense, but a logical abstraction in which we have agreed, for
the purpose in hand, to neglect the ego element. The question now
takes the form, what partial experiences belong to Psychology? To
answer briefly, those which stand in a relation of dependence upon
the ego and are in a logical sense determined by this dependence^
For example, a stone may be a partial experience in the sense that
we abstract from its relations to other elements of the environment
and from its relation to the ego. It is then a subject of Geology or
Physics but not of Psychology. If, however, we think of the same
stone as an element of an experience which we regard in the light
of its dependence on the ego, as in a case of memory, then we have a
partial experience belonging to Psychology. In short, any experi-
ence may belong to Psychology, if the way in which we look at it is
in its relation of dependence upon the ego. We may go further.
The condition of this dependence is a modification in a central nerv-
ous system; hence we may substitute for ego, central nervous sys-
tem, and our definition becomes 'the subject of Psychology is experi-
ence in general in so far as it is regarded as dependent on a central

6 14 GENERAL.

nervous system.' Not only is it difficult, however, to determine the
limits which are set to the actual existence of such central nervous
systems; but when we extend the inquiry beyond actual to potential
existence, we shall find that we are entirely unable to fix the point
where we can say, the possibility of the evolution of such a system
is here forever excluded. The question of the extent of psychical
•experience leads us beyond the limits of our special science.

LEIPZIG. CHARLES H. JUDD.

Der Begriff der Seele in der empirischen Psychologic. JOSEF SCHUCHTER.
Brixen, 1895. Pp. 39.

The author makes the usual distinction between rational and
empirical psychology, claiming, however, that after empirical psy-
chology has studied conscious phenomena, it can study the nature
of the soul on the basis of her empirical facts and laws, keeping to
the empirical method. He claims that most authors agree as to
this conception of empirical psychology, but some would exclude all
questions as to the soul. To this the author objects, as psychology,
he claims, would thus lose its pedagogic value and worth as a propae-
deutic to metaphysical questions. The motive for his work is the
questions: "Has empirical psychology grounds for taking the
concept of the soul into its domain?" And: " How can this be done
in harmony with its method?" Though these questions were the
motive for the work, the author distinctly states that they have not
affected its form, which, rather than being an answer to these ques-
tions, is an attempt to reach a concept of the soul, and to show that
empirical psychology furnishes material for the solution of the ques-
tion; an attempt in which the author frequently leaves the sphere of
experience altogether. First the author takes up consciousness,
and after describing it says that it is the business of empirical psy-
chology to seek to define it. An analytic definition being impossi-
ble, because there is no more ultimate or simple term by which to
define it, a * synthetic ' or ' genetic ' definition is what is to be
sought. This, he claims, is to inquire after the conditions and exist-
ence of consciousness; and this, he claims, is equivalent to the
problem of the soul. So empirical psychology leads to this prob-
lem, and can also give ' hints ' as to its solution. The author pro-
ceeds to show these, going on with the study of consciousness.
Consciousness is the universal form which accompanies mental phe-
nomena. The form has been identified with the content and lost in
it. We cannot limit consciousness to this interpretation. When we
regard it as something which can in thought be abstracted from its

PS YCHOL O GICAL LITER A TURE.

615

content, we may ask, what is the abstracting subject? Conscious-
ness thus divides into subject and object, and this same analytic
activity is the same as the synthetic activity which binds together
conscious phenomena. This is the soul, which is, therefore, an
activity. The author discusses the question of the relation of soul
and body, and concludes that the concept of the unconscious, being
a positive one, mediates between soul and body. He holds Aristo-
tle's idea that the soul is the entelechy of the body, and to be con-
ceived as a potence developing into actuality. But as what has
more and richer content cannot be developed from what has less, the
idea of God as the source of all things, is to be presupposed.

The work is concluded with a discussion of the question of im-
mortality, into which, for want of space, I cannot go. His argu-
ment is from the development of the soul in self-dependence and
from certain ideas, as, for example, the good. Because these ideas
have a psychological side, the author claims all that for empirical
psychology, not making a distinction between their psychologic
existence in consciousness and the question of their meaning, which
is metaphysical. Thus it can be seen, all along the discussion, that
he has not kept within the sphere of empirical psychology.

The Integration of Mind. EDMUND MONTGOMERY. Mind, Vol. 4,
No. 15. Pp. 307-319.

What we perceive has only momentary existence. Whatever
made up the content of consciousness, the preceding moment has
forever vanished out of existence, and the following moment is as
yet non-existent. That which seems to endure in identity can never
be that which is consciously present to us. Even could we obtain a
'punctum stans,' there would still arise the question as to the hid-
den source under the totality of conscious phenomena. The most
important problem in philosophy, then, is that of the nature of the
* matrix ' of our conscious phenomena. " How does conscious expe-
rience, gathered piecemeal and erratically in the course of life,
become so integrated in latency as to form a more or less systema-
tized potential totality, the integrant constituents of which are ever
ready, when occasion occurs, to emerge duly ordered into present
awareness?" The conscious states, being utterly evanescent, can-
not give the permanent substratum for the integration, which must
take place, therefore, outside consciousness; and the question is
whether, having no other data than those of the moment of con-
scious awareness, we can infer therefrom the existence and nature of
what underlies the integration of conscious experience.

6l6 SOCIAL PSYCHOLOGY.

Now, it is clear that our * moment of conscious awareness ' can-
not affect other beings. We do not perceive one another's conscious
states; and if we consisted only of what consciously appears, we
should be imperceptible to one another. And if things consisted in
the awareness of a supreme intelligence, they would also be imper-
ceptible. These considerations give proof of the existence of a
perceptibly revealed sphere of extra conscious existents, and the
characteristics of our percepts symbolically represent these. Now,
the author asks whether these characteristics of our bodily organism
do not give us information regarding the integration of experience.
There is the strongest evidence, the author claims, that conscious
states are the outcome of brain activity. He cites in proof of this
the dependence of special conscious states on special portions of the
brain; also the fact that physiological psychology presupposes that
* sense-stimulating' and * sense-stimulated ' agents exist; that the
former affect the latter, arousing percepts, and that modifications
of the stimuli are followed by modifications of brain activity and
then of consciousness. The author reaches the conclusion that
"the specific activities of extra-conscious existents stimulate in
definite ways the organic sensibility of our own entire conscious
being. This specifically attained action and reaction it is which
gives rise to the corresponding conscious states." *' Consciousness,
emerging thus solely under the functional activity of what is per-
ceptually realized as brain structure, seems to be, therefore, exclu-
sively an outcome of it." In the remainder of the article, which
lack of space forbids us to outline, the author seeks to show how,
by the same organic process in a progressive development, nerve
structure has become integrated, accompanied by a corresponding
integration of consciousness. C. W. HODGE.

SOCIAL PSYCHOLOGY.

(1) L'Annt'e sociologique, 1894. M. LAPIE. Revue de Metaphysique ft
de Morale. May, 1895.

(2) La Logiquc sociale. G. TARDE. Paris, Alcan, 1895. Pp. XIV +

464.

Lapie claims that the general characteristic of sociological dis-
cussion during the past year is an increasing tendency to emphasize
the psychological factors in history and the psychological, as con-
trasted with the biological, point of view for studying and explaining
social facts. This finds illustration (a) in the growing dissatisfaction
with the definition of society as an organism. Tarde urges that the

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE.

6l7

proper analogue is not an organism in general but a particular organ,
the brain. Pioger (La vie sociale, la morale, et le progres) would give
the specific difference by calling it a social organism. Novicow (Les
gaspillages des socie'te's modernes) maintains that societies are rather to
be interpreted as fires spiriluels. They are groups of ideas and sen-
timents, (b) The psychological tendency is seen in various defini-
tions of what constitutes a sociological fact. Durkheim (see this
REVIEW for May, 1895,) specifies a certain class of psychical facts,
viz., those due to constraint. Lacombe (De Vhistoire consider^ comme
science} regards as social those events which are either causes or
effects of institutions. Lapie would correct this by pointing out
that any idea becomes a social fact as soon as it is transmitted and
so finds an echo in the consciousness of others. Tarde considers
desires, and beliefs, if imitated, to be the central theme for social
study, (c) The causes for social facts are to be sought in psycho-
logy. Le Bon (Les lois psychologiques de Involution des peuples) holds
that the character creates the destiny of a people. Novicow and
Lacombe maintain explicitly that social facts are explained psycho-
logically and not otherwise — 'wants act in history,' says the latter,
'not as biologically real but as felt solicitations' (Cf. Ward's The
Psychic Factor]. Durkheim is the most important objector to the
principle of seeking psychological explanation, urging that the cause
of a social fact can be only a social fact. I think, however, that the
apparent opposition is due to the differing conceptions of the ex-
planation sought. We explain by pointing out the preceding fact,
or by analyzing the given fact into its elements (psychological pro-
cesses). Each has its place.

M. Tarde's work supplements his preceding studies (Lois de
r imitation, etc.), and, as is indicated by its title, is a striking exam-
ple of the present movement in French sociology traced by Lapie.
Imitation is not the sole social fact. It is only the social memory,
and memory while the foundation is not the edifice. The object of
the book is 'to show the judgment and will at work in society,' to
study the variations and inter-relations of beliefs and desires. As
Kant's logic asked, ' How is knowledge possible? ' so social logic asks,
' How is society possible? ' and as Kant discovered certain catego-
ries necessary for the individual, so there are essentials for the pos-
sibility of society, — 'permanent, necessary conditions of its more or
less stable equilibrium.' These are either (a) logical, viz., language
and the deity, or (b) teleological, good and evil. As space-time and
matter-force are concepts for harmonizing sensations for the indi-
vidual, so language is a medium for harmonizing perceptions, and the

6 1 8 NEUROLOGY.

deity for harmonizing thoughts and wills in society. Society began
when the judgments and wills of individuals came consciously into
contact, in agreement or discord, and there resulted a co-ordination
of ideas and tendencies of the primitive family, — religion and domes-
tic government. To understand the social processes we need then
first a study of the laws which govern the conflict or coalescence of
beliefs of varying degrees of strength. This yields quite a different
classification of judgments from that of the traditional logic and a
correspondingly different syllogism; and the conditions here analyzed
are those most frequent in daily life and even scientific induction,
for here the process is not one of drawing an inference from pre-
mises of equal certainty, but of a cumulative series of proofs result-
ing in increasing probability and stronger belief.

After a very suggestive treatment of this new logic of beliefs in
his first chapter the author goes on to elaborate his doctrine of the
social categories and to present analogies, some fruitful, some rather
far-fetched (e. g., when glory as social phenomenon is compared to
self-consciousness) between the social and the individualistic phases
of consciousness. The application of the principles developed to
language, religion, the sentiments of the heart, political economy
and art occupies the second half of the work. The role of imitation
in all these departments is emphasized, but perhaps as a result in
part of the criticisms on his earlier work, it is not over-worked, and
the psychologist may find much valuable material in these chapters.

UNIV. OF CHICAGO. J. H. TUFTS.

NEUROLOGY.

Die Localisationstheorie Angewandt auf psychologische Probleme. Bei-
spiel : Warum sind wir "zerstreut" ? G. HIRTH. Einleitung
von Ludwig Edinger. Zweite vermehrte Auflage. Miinchen,
Hirth, 1895. Pp. XXIV + 112.

The extraordinary progress of minute histology of the nervous
system within the last decade could not help arousing the interest of
many speculative minds. While numerous attempts are made to fill
the wide gap between the scanty data of localisation of motor and
sensory areas of the cerebral cortex, and a possible localisation of
the correlates of mental activity, it must become exceedingly difficult
for one not following the strictly anatomical literature, to find out
where the well established facts are at an end and where speculation
looses touch with actual observation. Many papers are indeed so
confusing that the present little work can be considered a very

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 619

fair exception, inasmuch as it does not often overstep the stand-
point of speculation on a fairly sober basis. A few sanguine state-
ments with regard to the correlation of anatomical structure and
psychical function could easily be enumerated, but on the whole there
is such a sound spirit pervading the little book that an occasional
lack of conservativism should not prejudice even the pedantic reader.
It may be that psychologists will not agree with many of Hirth's
opinions; the remarks are in accordance with the monistic tendencies
represented especially by the physicians of our days. As such they
would indeed be worth much attention, and, if necessary, worth a
thorough discussion by competent psychologists.

Hirth admits that, at present, it is impossible to construct even
in outlines the process of thinking from our anatomical and physio-
logical findings ; but it seems certain that the problem of localisa-
tion and the development of the various systems of the nervous
apparatus (Flechsig) will be a fertile field of study applicable also to
the development of psychical systems.

In its development, every 'system' (Merksystem) has what
might be called its special 'temperament', peculiarities in nutrition
tonus, energy and fatigue, owing to hereditary and developmental
influences. This holds both for the well established systems in the
specific areas of the cerebral cortex and for the material substratum
of 'associative processes.' Flechsig's thought centers (a rather un-
fortunate term) may contain the most complicated ones of these
systems; by all means we must maintain that, in some way, every
mental process must have its localisation limited to some system of
nerve-elements. The differences in the growth and ultimate archi-
tecture and functional energy of each system and the individual
concatenation of the systems determines the individuality of the
person. While lungs and kidneys and the heart are phylogenetically
very old organs, their formation is less subject to variations; the
older the systems are that form the basis of psychical correlates, the
less they are subject to malformation, while the youngest acquisi-
tions are most subtle and most perishable (the ' Achillesferse ' of the
human mind). The growth of these systems cannot be conceived
without an hereditary disposition in the growth of the corresponding
nerve-elements. The hereditary progress of the biological delusion
(perhaps better the delusion of living beings) is next treated in a
very attractive way; the outward projection, etc., the fact that nor-
mal brain activity is not felt as such any more than the activity of
other organs, which too, we know by its results only ; further the
formation of pathological delusions, the necessity of the constant

620 NEUROLOGY.

correction of the 'Ichsynthese' by the stimuli from the periphery,
the negation of a special apparatus or function of consciousness, the
independent thought of special sensoria, unconscious parallel pro-
cesses, polyideism, etc. The position taken in this sketch is next
tested by, or applied to, the phenomenon of ' Zerstreutheit ' (lack of
concentration). It would not be fair to attempt a complete repro-
duction of the little pamphlet of 112 pages of text and 24 pages of
introduction including Edinger's review of the first edition; it would
be impossible to do it justice. The temptation is greater to give an
outline of the actually available data of neurology which we could
recognize as the present status with all its conflicts and problems.
But for this, the limits of a review are too narrow.

The little book of Hirth may be heartily recommended as a very
suggestive program of interesting psychological problems.

Sur les connexions du ruban de Reil avec la corticaliti cerebrate. M. et
Mme J. DEJERINE. Extrait des comptes rendus des stances de
la Socie"t£ de Biologic. Seance du 6 Avril, 1895.

During the last three years the question of the anatomy of the fillet
has been the subject of an animated discussion. The course of the
fibres originating in the nuclei of Goll and Burdach forming the cen-
tral sensory path has become known through Edinger and Flechsig
(1885). Before this, the view of Meynert was generally adopted ;
the sensory fibres, coming from the nuclei mentioned, would decussate
and, joining the pyramidal tract, form the external bundle of the
crus cerebri and from there enter the posterior limb of the internal
capsule (carrefour sensitif of Charcot). Flechsig and Edinger showed
that the fibres decussate, but instead of joining the pyramids, form
the interolivary stratum and can be followed into what is known as
mesial fillet. Forel (1877) followed the mesial fillet partly into the
anterior corpus quadrigeminum (obere Schleife), partly into the
optic thalamus (Thalamus-Schleife). Flechsig and his followers
maintained (1881) that a part could be followed into the cortex of
the parietal lobe, whereas Monakow (1884) furnished facts in favor
of the view that the connection was not direct, but by means of the
optic thalamus. For a rather full and excellently illustrated account
of the anatomy of the fillet including the literature up to 1892 the
reader may be referred to the Illustrations of the Mid- and Hind-
Brain by Alexander Bruce.

The discussion has, of late, been led by Flechsig and Hosel on
the one side, who, on ground of recent pathological observation,
claimed a direct connection of the fillet with the cerebral cortex, and

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 621

by von Monakow and Mahaim on the other side, who bring material
in favor of an indirect connection by means of the optic thalamus.

M. and Mme Dejerine have no less than 9 cases in which the
fillet was involved and moreover 19 cases in which there were exten-
sive lesions of the central and parietal convolutions, all examined by
the method of serial sections. The following results may be gathered
from their communications :

1. Lesion of the nuclei of Goll and Burdach (2 cases) are followed
by (ascending) degeneration of the nerve-processes of their cells, i.
/., of the fillet. The degeneration cannot be followed beyond the
subthalamic region and the inferior part of the optic thalamus.

2. Lesion of the fillet in the region of the pons (3 cases) is fol-
lowed by ascending degeneration (which can be followed only as far
as the anterior corpora quadrigemina and the inferior part of the
optic thalamus, leaving completely intact the fibres passing through
the lenticular nucleus, the nucleus of Luys, the globus pallidus, and
the commissure of Meynert), and by descending degeneration (in-
volving the interolivary stratum of the same side and the arcuate
fibres and nuclei of Goll and Burdach of the other side.)

3. Lesion of the fillet in the region of the thalamus (4 cases) is
followed by a small atrophy of the mesial fillet, diminishing down-
wards, as we approach the nuclei of Goll and Burdach and identical
with the retrograde atrophy described by Forel (atrophe cellulipete).
There is no reason to believe that the cells of the fibres that atrophy
apparently downward must be located in the thalami ; at any rate
most of the fibres of the fillet come from the cells of the nuclei of
Goll and Burdach.

4. Lesion of the motor and parietal area (19 cases, some of them
with atrophy of the Linsenschleife), even when of old standing, do
not affect in the least the mesial fillet.

This is a very complete refutation of the direct cortical termina-
tion as maintained by Flechsig and Hosel and their followers, and a
complete corroboration of the views of Von Monakow and Mahaim.

Sur It mtchanisme de ragraphie dans I'aphasie motrice corticak. CH.

MiRALLig. Compt. rend. d. de la Soc. de Biol. 30 Mars, 1895.

In motor cortical aphasia the disorders of spontaneous writing
and of writing to dictation are proportional to those of the language
spoken, while copying is not interfered with. For the explanation
of this agraphia, Exner, Charcot and Pitres claim a special writing
center in the foot of the left second frontal gyrus; Wernicke, Gowers,
Lichtheim, Dejerine, Oppenheim and others say, however, that such

622 NEUROLOGY.

a center does not exist. If Charcot's view be correct, the patient is
able to compound the words with letters written on cards, an action
that does not involve any movements of writing. If, however, the
agraphia exists because the idea of the word is altered in the ' lan-
guage inte"rieur,' the patient cannot arouse the corresponding optic
image (Dejerine) and he cannot put together the letters to form the
word. The application of this test to 10 cases led to the following
conclusions :

1. In cortical motor aphasia, the agraphia does not consist in the
impossibility of tracing the letters on the paper and of grouping them
in words. It comes from the impossibility of reviving in the mental
language the conception of the letter and words, /'. <?., from an altera-
tion of the conception of the word itself. For this reason, a patient
with agraphia cannot write better with the letters already written
than when he has a pen in his hand.

2. Agraphia is therefore not the result of a motor disorder, of a
loss of graphic memories ; hence it is not due to an alteration of a
special motor graphic center specialized for the movements of the
hand.

These views can easily be proven with a type-writing machine.
The patient can write just as little with the machine as with the pen,
although the type-writer does not require special writing movements.

The daily life of a protozoan : A study in comparative psycho-physiology.
C. F. HODGE and H. A. AIKINS. Am. J. of Psychology, VoL
VI, No. 4.

With a very ingenious method of registration the authors recorded
the events in the life of various protozoans, especially Vorticella,
They made the observations with the microscope, the animal being
kept in a current of water from an aquarium containing ample food.
The fourteen experiments lasted from a few hours to five and a
quarter days, and the records are kept of the occurence of stalk con-
tractions, reproductive phases and variations of the frequency of
vesicle contractions, and of temperature and barometric pressure.
The result was that as long as food was abundant, the Vorticella
would move the cilia and reproduce by division without the inter-
vention of a resting stage. Light or sounds of any kind as well as
sudden changes of temperature (iced water), when not accompanied
by a perceptible jar of the microscope, would not elicit reactions of
any kind, whereas the sensibility to touch was manifested by very
prompt reactions as selection of food and contraction of the stalk at
the touch of an enemy or following a sudden jar.

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 623

The universe must consist for a Vorticella of a series of touches,
possibly also of tastes and smells. The absence of fatigue seems to
show that protoplasm may be formed as fast as used under favorable
conditions of nutrition, and that with equally good facilities for the
removal of decomposition products, these may not accumulate in
amounts sufficient to interfere with activity.

Sur les connexions du noyau rouge avec la corticalM ce're'brale. M. et

Mme J. DEJERINE. Soc. de Biol., seance du 30 Mars. 1895.

Recherches sur la structure anatomique du noyau rouge et ses connexions

avec le pddoncule ctrtbelleux supMeur. ALBERT M AH AIM. Mem.

de 1'Acad. Roy. de MeU de Belgique, Tome XIII, 6eme fasc.

Mahaim's investigation is based on the results of the experimental
degeneration method in the brain of rabbits. He finds that, con-
trary to the opinion of Bechterew, Marchi, etc., the superior cere-
bellar peduncle has its origin in the red nucleus and ends in the
dentate body and the hemisphere of the cerebellum. A small por-
tion does not decussate in the raphe of the tegmentum.

In the red nucleus of the rodents there is a small group of little
cells which has nothing to do with the opposite cerebellar peduncle
(nucleus minimus, at the junction of the anterior and middle third).
The non-decussating fibres of the superior peduncle are derived from
the cells of the anterior third of the red nucleus, the decussating
ones from the middle and posterior third. The fibres from the middle
portion give off very strong collaterals into the tegmentum.

The findings of Dr. and Mrs. Dejerine in brains with old lesions
go much further. The atrophy of one cerebellar hemisphere asso-
ciated with atrophy of the opposite cerebral hemisphere is a familiar
occurrence. The question whether there is a direct connection be-
tween the superior cerebellar peduncle and the cerebral cortex, and
whether the red nucleus has any connection with the cerebral cortex,
has not been decided by the cases described in the literature.

It is certain that the superior cerebellar peduncle degenerates
together with the cells of the red nucleus of the opposite side, when
the dentate body of the cerebellum is destroyed; if, however, only
the cortex of one cerebellar hemisphere is destroyed (cases of Men-
zel, Arndt and Dejerine) and the dentate body is not involved,
superior peduncle and red nucleus remain intact: hence, there is no
direct connection between the cerebellar cortex and the red nucleus.
As to the connection between red nucleus and cerebral cortex the
following facts are available: Mendel and Witkowsky reported de-
generation of the red nucleus after lesion of the optic thalamus. The

624 NEUROLOGY.

cases of Flechsig and Hosel, Mahaim, Monakow and one of Dejer-
ine's, old cortical and sub-cortical defects, can hardly be used for
the decision of the problem because the degeneration of the red
nucleus might be an indirect degeneration (Mingazzini), as all these
brains had been affected in early childhood. Now, Dejerine is able
to describe a case of cortical softening of the whole external aspect
of the hemisphere and of the orbital surface of the frontal lobe,
without any implication of the basal ganglia. The lesion was of
eleven years' standing in a man of fifty-three, so that indirect degen-
erations would be very improbable. Besides other very remarkable
degenerations which make the case a perfectly unique one, D. found
degeneration of the fibres that enter the red nucleus from above.
Hence, the connection between cerebral cortex and cerebellar cortex
is formed by three neurons at least:

1. Cells in the cerebral cortex (largely the parietal lobe) with
fibres radiating into the red nucleus.

2. Cells of red nucleus with processes forming the (decussating)
superior cerebellar peduncle which ends in the dentate body of the
cerebellum.

3. Cells of the dentate body sending fibres into the cerebellar
cortex.

Sur une forme spJciale d' he'mianopsie fonctionnelle dans la neurasthenic ct
la ne'vrose traumatique. DEJERINE et VIALET. Socie'te' de bio-
logic, stance du 28 Juillet, 1894.

Dejerine and his pupil Vialet (who died quite recently in the be-
ginning of a brilliant career) publish two cases of neurasthenia worth
knowing on account of the existence of a right homonymous hemi-
anopsia associated with varying constriction of the remaining left
fields. Their conclusions are as follows:

1. In certain neuroses, such as neurasthenia and traumatic neu-
roses, a persistent functional hemianopsia may occur.

2. While this form of hemianopsia does not offer very marked
characteristics, it is generally distinguished by the variability of the
limits of the preserved visual field.

3. Its diagnostic and prognostic value is the same as that of the
constriction of the visual field.

4. Its medico-legal importance is considerable, as it cannot be
simulated.

It is well to remember in this connection the case of bilateral
hemianopsia inferior described by Dr. A. Hoche.1 A woman of

1 Doppelseitige Hemianopsia inferior und andere sensorisch-sensible Storungen
bei einer functionellen Psychose, von Dr. A. Hoche. Arch. f. Psychiat., Bd. XXIII.

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 62$

twenty-seven was taken with melancholia soon after the birth of a
child; she had almost complete analgesia, loss of taste, loss of smell
with hallucinations of smell, double hemianopsia of both lower quad-
rants on both sides, with hallucinations in the upper quadrants and
peculiar photosmata in the lower (blind) quadrants; within five weeks
she improved and made a complete recovery. This case shows
clearly that every central lesion of vision can be psychogenous and
that the psychogenous or at least functional character is not limited
to the constriction of the field of vision or to amblyopia hysterica.
HOSPITAL, ILLS. A. MEYER.

The Localization of Cutaneous and Muscular Sensations and Memories.
C. L. DANA. (Reprinted from Jour, of Nerv. and Ment. Dis.,
Dec., 1894.) New York: The Alliance Press. Pp. 27.
Dr. Dana collates evidence in favor of attributing sensory func-
tions to the central cerebral convolutions. After citing some ex-
perimental data, he gives in detail the record of twenty-five clinical
cases bearing on the question. In each of these the motor symp-
toms were accompanied by some sensory disturbance, the centres
affected being located in the central convolutions. While many of
these cases do not fulfil the most rigid requirements, still they fur-
nish a certain amount of positive evidence to supplement the others.
The writer does not attempt a discussion of the opposing evidence,
but remarks that the number of "cases in which cortical injury
occurs without apparent sensory disturbance . . . become yearly less."
Admitting 'the sensory functions of the so-called motor cortex/
the question arises as to the nature of that function. Dr. Dana
points out that in the great majority of cases the sensory functions
lost are localization and * active touch'; these are really associative
processes, depending respectively on tactile, and motor and tactile
memories; they are "each associated with the special cortical
motor centre for the particular part" involved. He concludes,
therefore, that "muscular memories or association processes are
represented, measurably at least, in the motor area." Hence the
motor cortex is to be regarded as a 'sensory-memory-motor' organ.

Nachprilfung des der Theorie vom buchstabirenden Lesen und Schreiben
zu Grunde liegenden Falles von Sprachstdrung. R. SOMMER. Cen-
tralb. f. Nervenh. u. Psychi., 1894, N. F., IV, 113-137.
Dr. Sommer gives the record of some observations made by him-
self on a peculiar case of traumatic aphasia already reported upon
by Prof. Grashey, with conclusions which differ from those deduced
by the latter. The subject, Voit, fell from a ladder in 1885, strik-

626 NEUROLOGY.

ing on the left side of his head. He gradually recovered his physi-
cal health, and at the time of Sommer's examination had resumed
his duties as worker in a brewery. The acute amnesia present at
the time of Grashey's experiments had almost disappeared, but the
aphasia remained. He was unable to name any object shown him
without first writing its name. It was the act of writing, rather
than the sight of the written word, that gave rise to the act of per-
ception, as shown by the following: (i) Voit could name the object
after going through the motions of writing, without marking, or
when the hand that traced was concealed from his view; if his hands
were held he would trace the letters with his feet, or even with his
tongue, and succeed in getting the name; but if all these members
were held fast he was unable to ' find ' the word. (2) If the initial
letter of the name was shown him among others, he was unable to
identify it as such. The direct path between the optic and acoustic
centres had apparently been interrupted, and the connection was
supplied by a path through the visual motor centre.

Voit's mathematical powers were limited to multiplication of one-
place numbers, which he performed rapidly, and simple addition
and subtraction, which required some time.

The experiment was made of placing before him two objects be-
longing to a common genus; even when prevented from writing,
and unable to * find ' their names, he signified (by nodding) that he
recognized a connection or common ground between them. These
results seem to show that "the centre of ideation (Begriffscentrum)
is only the collective name for a number of different processes which
may take place in quite different parts of the brain."

The case is important as a proof of the existence of a direct con-
nection between the centre for the perception of objects (Centrum
der Objectsvorstellungen) and that for the perception of graphic
movements, which have been considered as connected only through
the auditory centre. It also demonstrates, according to Dr. Som-
mer, that one part of an idea-complex may be lost without the con-
nections between the rest being disturbed, and without the idea
itself suffering any vital injury; thought may exist without language,,
in the case of both sense objects and ideas.

H. C. WARREN.

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 627

VISION.

La mesure des illusions visuelles chez Us enfants. A. BINET. Revue
philosophique, XX, 11-25. July, i895-

The illusion of Muller-Lyer was the one chosen for measure-
ment. One of its figures (B, the apparently shorter when both are
really of equal length) was drawn in different lengths upon all but
one of the right-hand pages of an album; upon the outer half of the
last page, which could be unfolded wider than the others, was drawn
the other figure (A, the apparently longer). A could then be com-
pared successively with the different lengths of B, and one of the
latter selected which should appear to be of the same length as A.
Two such albums were constructed, showing the illusion on two
different scales. Measurements were made upon 60 school children
of the average age of 12, and upon 45 of the average age of 9 years.
Results: (i) The illusion is stronger for the figures drawn on the
smaller scale than for the larger ones. (2) The degree of the illu-
sion depends on the order in which the lines are compared; it is
greater when the series of figures B is followed in the order of de-
creasing rather than of increasing lengths. (3) The total illusion is
the product of two illusions; namely, of the apparent lengthening of
the line produced by the obliques at its ends in A and of the appa-
rent shortening of the line produced by the obliques in B. These
two effects are not of equal force, as can be shown by comparing
each of the figures, A and B, with a series of straight lines. When
A is 2 cm. long, B must be on the average 0.57 cm. longer, in order
to appear of the same length. As compared with straight lines, A
(2 cm.) shows an apparent lengthening of 0.51 cm.; B (2.57 cm.)
shows an apparent shortening of only 0.13 cm. (4) The children
have in general a vague consciousness of the illusion. (5) The illu-
sion is stronger with children of 9 than with those of 12 years. For
the former, with A 10 cm. long, there is an average apparent differ-
ence of 2.55 cm.; with A 2 cm. long, of 0.75 cm. For the latter,
with A 10 cm., the apparent difference is 1.88 cm.; with A 2 cm.,
0.57. The individual variation from these averages is considerable,
reaching (for example) an average of 1.05 cm. for the younger
pupils, with the larger A, and the series B taken in increasing order;
which shows that the illusion varies greatly in strength for different
individuals.

BROWN UNIVERSITY. E- B- DELABARRE.

Congenital Night- Blindness and Pigmentary Degeneration. COLMAN W.
CUTLER. Archives of Ophthalmology, XXIV, 313-333-
Konig's identification of the distribution of brightness in the
spectrum of the totally color-blind, and of the normal eye in a faint

628 VISION.

light, with the absorption of the rod-pigment, which led to the self-
evident consequence that the totally color-blind are rod-seers, as
v. Kries puts it (Ztsch. f. Psych., IX, 115) — a conclusion at which I
had already arrived from theoretical considerations — renders any
additional information as to night-blindness of peculiar interest.
While the totally color-blind see with nothing but the rods, the
night-blind evidently must have defective rods, — rods at least in
which the rod-pigment fails to appear in accordance with the require-
ment of night-vision. This would doubtless be owing to a defective
structure in the pigment-epithelium; and, in fact, Cutler finds it
most probable, from anatomical considerations, that the defect,
when congenital, is not of inflammatory origin, but is owing to some
malformation in the pigment epithelium. This distinctly adds con-
firmation to the recent views on this subject. The defect has also
this connection with color-blindness — that it is inherited, and that it
is far more common in men than in women. It is of rare occur-
rence, only 54 well-described cases are recorded; of these, only two
are isolated, the rest occurring in only ten different families; and
there are 36 cases of males to only 18 of females. In two families
five different generations have been afflicted in this way; in one the
transmission has twice carried over two generations, the females
being exempt; and in one, eight out of thirteen males all had it, the
females again being exempt. It is also a significant fact that, while
the fields of vision for white, red and green remain unchanged, that
for blue, in the cases examined by Dr. Cutler, was in every instance
contracted.

Ueber die percipirende Schicht der Netzhaut beim Mensehen. W. Kos-
TER. Arch. f. Ophth., XLI (i), 1-27. 1895.

Koster finds himself unable to obtain a double shadow of a
blood-vessel upon the retina by Prof. Konig's method, and Prof.
Leber, of Heidelberg, as well. The double shadows they obtain,
indeed, by H. Mailer's first method for making the blood-vessels
visible, — namely, if they concentrate light upon the sclerotic coat of
the eye in two adjacent points by means of two lenses, — but they
are not able to perceive that the distance between the two shadows
varies when the light employed consists of the successive colors of
the spectrum. Koster computes the ratio of the distance between
two red shadows to that between two blue shadows, due to the
difference in refrangibility of red and blue light, when Konig's
method is made use of, and finds it to be not, indeed, a negligible
quantity, 50: 51, but less than the difference obtained by Konig by

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 629

observation, 22:19, and in the opposite sense; the different refrangi-
bility of red and blue light would therefore have the effect of mask-
ing part of the influence of the distance apart of the different per-
ceptive layers, if such exist, and hence could not be made use of to
explain the phenomenon observed by Konig, even if it were suffi-
cient in amount. [Koster, however, overlooks the fact pointed out
in this Journal (II, 394), that the situation is changed according as
the blood-vessel observed is between or not between the centres of
the two overlapping images of the pupil, which are formed by the
two holes in the moving diaphragm.] Koster awaits with impa-
tience farther details in regard to Konig's experiment.

How Javal's Keratometer may be easily changed into a good Chromatome-
ter for the Examination of Patients as to Color- Blindness. By
CARL WEILAND. Arch, of Ophthalmology, XXIV, 3, 349-352.

Testing for color-blindness by means of colored worsteds is a
proceeding of a very primitive character, and a spectroscope cannot
readily be employed in the ordinary physician's office. The best
instrument in which polarized light, a quartz plate, and a Nicol's
prism are employed to this end is Chibret's chromatophotoptome-
ter of 1885, but it is very expensive; and it is open to the objection
that the color fields presented to the patient are very small and must
be looked at with about 4D of accommodation. Dr. Weiland has
devised a simple contrivance, consisting of a short tube holding a
quartz plate and a Nicol's prism, which, if one has already a Javal's
keratometer, would seem to accomplish everything that can be
asked for; with the addition of a second Nicol, the brightness of
the two complementary color fields can be varied, and a position of
the instrument can be found in which they are, for the partially
color-blind person, absolutely indistinguishable both in brightness
and in color-tone. The instrument is first set for blue and yellow,
which colors are both readily seen by the ordinary cases of color-
blindness, and it is then rotated until the definite green or blue-
green is found which the color-blind, of one or the other species,
fails to distinguish from its complementary color, — seeing them
both, in fact, whatever he may say if untrained, as grey. By a
simple device dissimulation is rendered impossible. This most use-
ful attachment can be furnished by Queen & Co., of Philadelphia.
BALTIMORE. C. LADD FRANKLIN.

630 SKIN-SENSA TIONS.

SKIN-SENSATION.

Ueber die Trugwahrnehmung zweier Punkte bei der Beruhrung eines
Punktes der Haut. V. HENRI and GUY TAWNEY. Philosoph-
ische Studien, XI, 3.

The observation has been made that touching the skin with one
point often gives rise to the perception of two. There are two solu-
tions— that of Wundt and Miiller, which is physiological; that of
Camerer, Fechner and Nichols, psychological.

The subjects, Tawney and Stratton, were to observe and de-
scribe carefully the whole experience, besides answering 'one point,'
'two points' in the ordinary way. Two series were followed. In
one the subject was ignorant of the nature and number of the stim-
uli; in the other he was informed. This gave the influence of know-
ledge and ignorance. The time between each experiment was not
less than two minutes. There were two modes of experiment — pure
double point illusions, where one point touched the skin; mixed,
where two points touched. The volor side of the arm, midway
between the wrist and elbow, gave the best results.

Results. — Sets i and 2. Pure illusions. Two points alternately
touched with one point. The majority of tests showed the illusion.
There were clear differences in the direction of the points and in
their quality. Also the illusions stood in certain definite relations to
the points touched. Sets 3 and 4: Pure and mixed. The relative
number of illusions greater in the pure than in the mixed series.
Illusion as to distance not beyond 20 mm. Qualitatively like points
were more frequently felt than different. Sets 5 and 6: One point
touched. Sometimes one, sometimes two points shown. Expecta-
tion influenced greatly the number and kind of illusions. The far-
ther apart the points were expected to be, the farther apart they were
felt. When two points were shown, the tendency was to feel two.

Conclusion: (i) The illusion is primarily bound up with the phy-
siological processes. (2) The occurrence of the illusion is influenced
in an important way by knowledge and expectation. This, how-
ever, does not explain all, e. £•., the constant differences in direction
(transversely or longitudinally) and quality. Also in certain cases
the subject expected and saw one point only but felt two.

UNIV. OF CHICAGO. S. F. MCLENNAN.

Ueber Beziehungen zwischen geistiger Ermiidung und Empfindungsver-
mogen der Haut. H. GRIESBACH. Archiv. fur Hygiene, Band
24, Heft 2, 1895.

Prof. Griesbach here reports a series of experiments in which he
employed Weber's well-known method of measuring the fineness of

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 631

tactual discrimination with compass-points, as a means of determin-
ing the degree of mental fatigue. His subjects were, for the most
part, scholars in the Ober-Realschule and Gymnasium in Miilhausen.
A few supplementary series were also made on teachers, appren-
tices, factory-laborers and mechanics. Six areas of the hand and
face were selected and the thresholds determined after periods of
mental labor and rest. The uniform result was a marked increase
in the diameter of the sensation-circles after effort, and a corres-
ponding decrease after relaxation, and much more after rest. The
following series will illustrate: 7 a. m., threshold 7 mm.; 8 a. m.,
after class in history, 12.5; 9 a. m., after Greek, 17; 10 a. m., after
Bible-study, 9; n a. m., after Latin, 14; 12 m., after French, 17;
2 p. m., after two hours rest, 10.5. In the case of the laborers,
whose work required far less mental effort, the increase is very much
smaller, as appears by comparing the following series: 7 a. m., 10;
12 m., n; i. 30 p.m., 10; 6p.m., 11.5. On the ground of these
results the writer criticises severely the German school program as
much too exacting on the scholars.

LEIPZIG. CHAS. H. JUDD.

HABIT AND ASSOCIATION.

Gewohnung undGewohnheit: einc psychologisch-padagogischt Monographit.
ARISTOTELES P. KURTIDIS. I-D. Athen, Konstantinidis, 1893.
Pp. 64.

After describing the phenomena of habit, the author discusses the
process of its formation with special reference to volition and the
problems of education. The formation of habit depends, in the
main, on repetition of impression; the proposal to regard persistence
of stimulus as a second coordinate factor is rejected. The possi-
bility of any habituation at all rests on the tendency in the organism
to spontaneous action and on its capacity to react on external im-
pressions: which two, automatic actions and impressions from with-
out, are the 'prime movers' in the process. Which predominates in
a given case, depends on the strength and frequency of the external
influences and on differences of temperament. Habits may be in-
herited. In the development of habit, the order may be from the
unconscious to the conscious or the reverse. The usual account is
given of the latter and the inference suggested that habitual crimi-
nals should be less severely punished than others. The force of habit
has its limitations in hunger, sleep, fatigue, etc., and in other habits.
Where habits conflict, one as a rule gives place gradually; sometimes,

632 HABIT AND ASSOCIA TION.

however, an old habit is broken and a new one formed on the instant.
It may be worth remarking that the passage in Aristotle appealed
to in support of this last statement (de mem. 2, 451 b 14) is probably
corrupt. What Aristotle probably said was that "sometimes move-
ments which occur but once become more effectually consolidated
into a habit than others which take place repeatedly. Hence," he
continues, " some things which we see only once we remember better
than other things which we see many times." Our author finds here a
distinct anticipation of the Herbartian doctrine of the 'memory of
feeling or of will.' This conception of a * memory of the will ' forms,
in connection with the foregoing analysis, the principle of the
1 pedagogical exposition/ which is for the most part thoroughly
sensible, but contains nothing especially new or in this place note-
worthy.

DU Zweckntdssigkeit der psyschischen Vorgdnge als Wirkung der Vorstcl-
lungshemmung. OTTO LINDENBERG. Berlin, Duncker. 1894.
Pp. 64.

The problem is, How are adaptations, which Darwinism explains
for the species by natural selection, developed, under circumstances
in which natural selection plays no part, in the individual? Limiting
the enquiry to the psychological aspects of the problem, the present
work seeks to show that the striving for an end tends of necessity
to develop the means for its realization. The first to definitely state
and treat the question was Lipps. And in principle his solution,
namely, that the transition to the means is primarily due to a check-
ing of the mental current, is correct. But he makes several unveri-
fiable assumptions, and especially that the transition is brought about
through its association of the means with the end inhibited. The
theory to be presented differs essentially from that of Lipps in ex-
plaining the transition from association of the means with a presen-
tation in consciousness.

The theory rests on the following general presuppositions. The
facts of mental life are presentations and feelings. Feelings (will,
pleasure and pain) arise from relations among presentations. Pre-
sentations arise productively from external stimuli and reproduct-
ively from contiguous association. These are the sole positive factors.
Negatively they are determined by association, involving changes in
the distribution of psychic force in the rise and fall of presentations,
by the 'Enge des Bewusstseins ' and by the inhibition of particular
presentations by opposing presentations ('Vorstellungshemmung').
This last has very positive consequences. If, namely, in a strong

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 633

association a-b, b is inhibited, it follows, first, that the force of a in
consciousness is strengthened, and, secondly, that the force which
it would otherwise expend in reproducing b it now expends on other
less strongly associated presentations. But among the latter those pre-
sentations will be in a situation specially favorable for reproduction
which are either directly or indirectly « means ' ( ' Mittelvorstellungen ')
for the reproduction of b (m in a-m and m-b, q in a-q and q-a or q-m,
etc.). For not only will they be strengthened by the influence from
<*, but they retain for themselves the force which, but for the inhibi-
tion, they would use up in the process of reproducing b. It follows,
therefore, — and this is the kernel of the theory — that the very
inhibition of a presentation tends to increase the force, and that in
proportion to its completeness, of the presentations which are the
associative 'means' of the reproduction of the presentation inhibited.
It is assumed, of course, that the requisite associations exist. If
they do not, or if they are too weak, the means-presentation will be
inoperative; and this sometimes happens. Moreover, as the produc-
tion of all contrast-presentations must be explained by the same
principle, special circumstances must favor the reproduction of the
1 means ' which lead to b rather than those which lead to other con-
trast-presentations. These circumstances, however, we have: the
actual concomitants of a in consciousness are variable, whereas the
associations a-m, etc., are constant.

The foregoing sufficiently explains the reproduction of b where b
is a mere thought-presentation. The interesting case is where b is
a sensation. Its usual antecedents are then motor-sensations pro-
duced by actual movement. How is the movement produced? The
answer is: as in the preceding case, by the influence of inhibition.
Here, namely, not only the end b but the 'means' m (motor sensa-
tions) is inhibited. But the inhibition of m strengthens, on the
principle, its 'means' associates. But the best possible association
exists between m and the unconscious psychic factors which cause
the movement. These factors, therefore, will be strengthened. As
they do not require and never attain sufficient strength to rise to
consciousness, we may conclude that, if the reproductive activity
really strives to produce motor-sensations, that striving must lead,
under normal circumstances, to the production of those sensations.
If in any case the process is repeated, the associations will be
strengthened and finally result in a permanent psychical structure.
Actions may then take place by association alone without inhibition.
In considering the genesis of actions, however, we must distinguish
three cases: (i) the negative influence of association— new associa-

634 E THICAL.

tions and directions of reproductive activity negating the original
striving; (2) the positive influence of association, tending to destroy
the negative influence of customary association in cases where the
end involves novelty of form; (3) the influence of inhibition, leading
to the desire for a sensation which is 'means' to another sensation
we desire. No influence on action must be ascribed to pleasure and
Npain. The phenomena of inhibition are not to be explained by the
-feelings but the feelings by them.

The theory thus outlined is ably worked out in the essay, and,
granting the general assumptions, goes far to solve the problem. It
should at least serve to call attention to a point in the psychology
of habit and volition which has hitherto been too little appreciated.

SMITH COLLEGE. H. N. GARDINER.

ETHICAL.

Vorlesungen uber soziale Ethik. GEORG VON GIZYCKI. Aus seinem
Nachlass herausgegeben von Lily von Gizycki. Berlin, 1895.

These posthumous lectures upon the subject of social ethics have
special interest at this time because of the very recent death of
Gizycki. They are an elaboration and application of the funda-
mental principle which underlies his general ethical system. This
is the Greatest Happiness principle. He seeks to combine the con-
cept of Oughtness with that of the Greatest Happiness. While
acknowledging the full import of the categorical imperative, he
insists that the only imperative is that which urges one ever to seek
the greatest happiness of the greatest number. In the light of this
guiding principle he reviews the present relations of capitalist and
laborer, discussing questions of overproduction, strikes, woman and
child labor, congestion of wealth, eight-hour laws, etc. Through-
out he appears as the vigorous, undaunted, hopeful champion of the
laborer. He especially urges the sympathetic and active coopera-
tion of the brawn and brain laborers, insisting that theirs should be
common cause, for the time is fast nearing when theirs will be a
common lot and destiny. It is interesting to note the influence of
our great American reformers upon his thought, as seen in the
numerous quotations from Abraham Lincoln, William Lloyd Garri-
son, and Wendell Phillips. His hopes and plans for the future of
the laborer, and the equality of privilege for all men, may be criti-
cised as Utopian, and yet cannot fail to impress the reader with
their deep insight, large sympathies, and a profound belief in the
possibilities of human nature. His work must indeed have left a

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 63$

permanent impress upon German life and thought, and even legisla-
tion, as well as contributing valuable material to the general body
of philosophic thought.

Une £tude re'aliste de I'acte et ses consequences Morales. T. \Vi
Revue de Metaphysique et de Morale. Sept., 1894.

The writer insists that our acts have in them often an element of
spontaneity. Some decisions seem to come as veritable inspirations,
just as works of the genius are said to be inspired. Conduct, which
is the result of habit, is wholly reasonable and subject to laws logi-
cal, physical and psychological, but our spontaneities are free. The
act is the concrete expression of the individual nature and must be
so accepted and so regarded in its concrete capacity, and not to be
arbitrarily estimated according to general laws. The act, since it
has happened, must have a satisfactory explanation to account for
it; if this were not so, the act could never have been accomplished.
And yet we are not relieved of responsibility because our acts are
but the outer expression of an inner nature. We are responsible for
what we are. And so we are to be law unto ourselves. Our acts
bear their own sanction in their consequences.

This study neglects the consideration of any norm of conduct as
affording a suitable criterion for the estimate of individual acts.
The author feels that whatever is is right. Morality without an
ideal may summarily dismiss many perplexing questions to the con-
venient sphere of metaphysics, but yet the procedure is not perma-
nently satisfying. This defect is felt throughout in reading this
article.

Htie'ronomie et Autonomie. E. DE HARTMANN. Revue de M6ta-

physique et de Morale. Mai, 1894.

The author indicates three possible situations concerning moral
questions. That of pure autonomy, which disregards all heterono-
mous commands; that of pure heteronomy, which gives implicit obe-
dience to a foreign will in all cases of doubt; and, finally, where
the two principles act simultaneously, partly in agreement and
partly in conflict. There may be an illusion where one thinks he is
obeying a given law, when in reality he is but following a tendency
of his own volition; or, on the other hand, he may think he is act-
ing solely by autonomous determination, when he is really following
that heteronomy due to his education, or through the unconscious
fear of heteronomous authority, which is the rule of his decisions.
Heteronomy may be of various kinds. It may be immanent in the

636 ETHICAL.

social life, becoming in time crystallized into a heteronomy purely
legal and exterior. But even in this the individual has a part in
formulating law, for this is but the integration of all morally auton-
omous acts of the many individual wills. The heteronomy, more-
over, of a present generation was the autonomy of ancestors in
former generations, and is an autonomy to the present so far as
there exists an organic oneness with the past, inasmuch as they in
common participate in the absolute reason. There is also a trans-
cendent heteronomy looking to the will of the Supreme Being. This
is more akin to autonomy than to the immanent heteronomy formu-
lated in judicial systems. For if the absolute being which deter-
mines the objective moral ends is none other than the ego itself in its
veritable essence, then the ends thus ordained become individual in
a peculiar sense. The origin of transcendent heteronomy, histori-
cally considered, may be traced to the expression, through the
prophets of different ages, of the popular autonomy at each period
of civilization. There is a danger lest the true character of trans-
cendent heteronomy, being discovered, it shall lead to the disclaim-
ing of all obligation. This danger is, however, offset by the laws in
which immanent heteronomy is formulated, compelling obedience by
appropriate sanction; and thus absolute disorganization of society is
averted. There has been a moral progress, historically, from the
eudemonism of the ancients, though the heteronomy of the middle
ages, to the autonomy ushered in with Kant and Fichte. While
autonomy differs from heteronomy only as regards form, it differs
from eudemonism in both matter and form. The value of heter-
onomy is that of a propadeutic to the final stage of autonomy. The
proper work of Church and State, therefore, is not to educate the
people to childish obedience of heteronomous commands, but rather
to prepare them by appropriate training for the exercise of a true
autonomy.

Untcrsuchungen iiber die vcrschiedenen Moral- Systemc. K. LEIMBACH.
Fulda, 1894.

The author examines the several moral systems in reference to
the relative positions they assign to law and freedom, in terms of the
various probabilities for and against one or the other. He, thus
notes the following systems : — absolute tutiorismus, laxismus, rela-
tive tutiorismus, probabiliorismus, sequiprobabilismus, and simple
probabilismus. The last he regards as the true expression of ethics,
both theoretical and practical, and defines it by the following rule : —
In all cases of doubt between law and the free activity of the individ-

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 637

ual, when there exists a real probability favoring his free course of
action, it is to be followed rather than the formulated law. It is the
law. This theory is supported by three considerations. First, it
allows for the supremacy of conscience. Second, it places freedom
before law, as it is essentially. Third, it distinguishes between
validum and licitum; the criterion of the former is to be found in
terms of the certain; the latter, in terms of the probable. From the
author's standpoint, which is evidently ecclesiastical, he finds a guid-
ing thread which he is satisfied will lead him through the maze of
the subtle problems of casuistry. This discussion throughout has a
scholastic flavor, and abounds in quotations from patristic philosophy
and church councils, as final authorities.

PRINCETON. JOHN GRIER HIBBEN.

ABNORMAL.

Jeanne D'arc. Vom psychologischcn und psychopathologischtn Standpunkte
aus. Jos. ZURCHER. Inn. Dissert. (Zurich). Leipzig, 1895.

With the support of Prof. Forel, of Zurich, the authoress endeav-
ours in the above study to render intelligible, from a psychological
and psychopathological point of view, the unique personality of the
gifted child of nature from D6mre"my. Besides the records of the
process of rehabilitation and of the contemporaneous chronicles, (in
so far as the contents of both are virtually guaranteed) and the works
of Vallet de Viriville, Beaurepaire, Eyrell and Mahrenholz, the
sources consulted were principally the Latin and Old French records
according to Ouicherat. From the last named the authoress has
drawn a valuable extract which occupies 50 pages of her work and
consists of the personal testimony of Joan with respect to her visions
and voices. It is in the original tongue with appended German
translation.

In chapter I. the authoress gives a sketch of the life of the young
heroine, of her triumphal march and her cruel, tragic end. In Chap-
ter II. an attempt is made to shed light on the personality of Joan
of Arc, as yet so slightly comprehended from a psychological and
psychiatrical point of view in accordance with experiences of the
theory of suggestion; and to classify this personality psychiatrically.
An eminently gifted girl of unusual intelligence, deep moral earnest-
ness and intense devotion to the dogmas of her church, she is, at the
same time, an habitual religious hallucinatrix and auto-suggestionist.
Her auto-suggestions have root in an old national tradition originat-
ing with the Keltic wizard Merlin, according to which a pure virgin
from an oak-forest on the borders of Lorraine should free her country

638 ABNORMAL.

after it had been brought to the verge of destruction through a
woman (according to popular belief, the unnatural mother of Charles
VII. of France.) She believes herself to be the chosen of God, her
angels and saints prompt her with increasing vehemence to fulfil her
divine mission: thus arises before us the symptomatic picture of sys-
tematic monomania. According to the authoress Joan of Arc was
not the victim of actual mental disease. What in her is pathologi-
cal— for instance, the variety and number of her hallucinations more
especially — belongs to the pathology of genius which borders so
closely upon insanity. * In the genius of Joan of Arc lies the key
to her story." "She is a genius of the first rank, perhaps the great-
est of known female geniuses in the history of the world.' Her great
intellectual gifts, the logical sequence of her thoughts and the absence
in her of ethical defects characteristic of chronic paranoia, distinguish
her, according to the authoress, from this class. Very impetuous
and filled with ecstatic ideas, the maid disregards the reality and im-
perfections of life; she must, therefore, like all incorrigible idealists,
finally tread the path of martyrdom.

After the above we need scarcely remark that with respect to the
theory of suggestion the authoress advocates the views of the school
of Nancy as opposed to those held at the Salpetriere.

Though the style of the work is occasionally rather diffuse and
not free from repetition, the train of thought in the second part lack-
ing more especially in sustained clearness and precision, the au-
thoress' merit in having investigated this interesting subject for the
first time by the light of modern scientific knowledge, in having freed
the character of this gifted heroine from prejudice, and further, in
having delivered a spotless saint from the church 'out of which there
is no salvation,' must yet be fully acknowledged. Notwithstanding
this, the question as to the pathological classification of Joan of Arc
may not yet be considered as finally settled. Nor can I agree with
the view which the authoress, following Forel's idea, takes of con-
sciousness. In spite of all recent endeavours to prove in one and
the same individual a double consciousness, a double personality, a
double ego, we must yet emphatically insist that there is and can be
only one undivided individual consciousness it may exhibit, however,,
a graduated series of states. Elsewhere I shall have an opportunity
of treating this point more in detail.

LEIPZIG. FRIEDR. KIESOW.

The Pathology of Mind. H. MAUDSLEY. London and New Yorkr

Macmillan & Co., 1895. Pp. XI -f 576. $5.
In this new edition of his well-known work, Dr. Maudsley prac-
tically presents a new book. The omissions are large and the addi-

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 639

tions many, while the topics generally are rewritten. The work is a
clear, philosophical and in most respects admirable compendium of
mental disease, and a good book for general psychologists to make
themselves familiar with.

The most interesting part of the volume to us is Part I, which
deals with 'The Nature and Causation of Insanity.' Dr. Maudsley
recognizes two conditions of mental defect, which will serve to
recommend his book to modern psychologists — /. e., the hereditary
condition of the patient and the social condition. Possibly too little
weight is given to heredity as such, since very large emphasis is laid
upon the transmission of the effects of personal life, such as sexual
dissipation, alcoholism, etc. Yet the essential truth, that insanity
means a bad hereditary strain, is presented at length. The social
condition spoken of relates rather to the definition of insanity than to
its cause; and it does seem that Dr. Maudsley has laid his finger on
the true differentia of mental abnormality is making the sign of
defect the patient's lack of complete harmony with his social sur-
roundings. " Insanity means essentially, then, such a want of har-
mony between the individual and his social medium, by reason of
some defect or fault of mind in him, as prevents him from living and
working among his kind in the social organization."

The author also makes the point very clear that social condi-
tions may be the controlling ones in putting in evidence on the one
hand, or in effectually hiding on the other hand, an individual's
inherent weakness. Social conditions often ' prop-up ' and make
socially continent a man of essentially bad heredity: and it is just
as true that social strain may 'touch-off' a man of slight abnormal
variation and make him a lunatic. An interesting section is that
(pp. 78 ff) which lays emphasis upon the social aspects of crime.

With such excellencies as these to commend it — and the treat-
ment of Parts II-IV on the details of the insanities, which consti-
tute the body of the volume, added on this side of the account — it
is a pity that the author has not kept abreast of current psychology
better than he has. He holds to the old flat-footed associationism,
with the simple reflex-theory of nervous action, to explain all psy-
choses by. And, as of old, so here also, Dr. Maudsley appeals to
nervous action as the final term of explanation. A little reading of
Pierre Janet, whose name does not occur in the index, would inform
Dr. Maudsley of the way the more difficult mental abnormalities
may be approached on the mental side. But even to appreciate
such books as Janet's, Maudsley would have to know something
more of the mental processes which go with attention, sentiment,

640 NEW BOOKS.

volition, and all the phenomena of segregation, abnormal synthe-
ses, etc., than the old English associationism knew. For example,
compare Dr. Maudsley's crude note on the 'Subliminal' (pp. 118—
119) with Janet's patient treatment of the stigmata which illustrate
it. Perhaps it is a practical aspect of this theoretical defect that
leads Dr. Maudsley to show the pitiable heartlessness that he does in
alluding to religion, and even to certain of the more refined bear-
ings of morality. So great is this defect, taken as a whole, that the
book must be looked upon as one of the latest and best works of a
school of writers which is just about to be ' turned down ' in the his-
torical progress of the science of abnormal mind. For if we are
learning anything in this sphere in these late years, it is that the
adequate understanding of anomalies of sentiment — personal, social,
ideal — is to supply the superstructure to the foundation long ago
laid by the psychology of association. But the appreciation or eluci-
dation of sentiment is not Dr. Maudsley's forte.

J. M. B.

NEW BOOKS.

The Growth of the Brain. H. H. DONALDSON. London, Walter

Scott; New York, Scribners, 1895. Pp. 374. $1.25.
Die Seele des Kindes. W. PREYER. Vierte Auflage, Leipzig, Grieb-

er's Verlag, 1895. Pp. XI+462.
Psychology in Education. R. N. ROARK. New York, American Book

Co., 1895. Pp. 312. $i.
Introduction to Philosophy. Fr. PAULSEN. Translated from the third

German edition by F. THILLY, with preface by W. JAMES. New

York, Holt, 1895. PP. XXIV+437. $3.50.
The Principles of Morals. T. FOWLER and J. M. WILSON. Oxford,

Clarendon Press; New York, Macmillans, 1895. Pp. XXI-f-

A Textbook in Physiology. M. FOSTER. Revised and abridged (in

one volume) from the author's work in five volumes. New York

and London, 1895. Pp. XL VIII +1183. $5.
Die Seelenkunde der Menschen als reine Erfahrungswissenschaft. M.

BENEDIKT. Leipzig, Reisland, 1895. Pp. 372.
Temperament et Charactere selon les Individus, les Sexes^ et les Races. A.

FOUILL£E. Paris, Alcan, 1895. Pp. 378.
Hedonistic Theories from Aristippus to Spencer. JOHN WATSON. Glas-

gow, Maclehose; London and New York, Macmillan, 1895. Pp.

XIII+248. $1.75.

PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. 641

Studies in the Evolutionary Psychology of Feeling. H. M. STANLEY.

London, Sonnenschein; New York, Macmillans, i8gc Pn

VIII + 392. $2.25.
Selections from Plato for English Readers. From the translation of

B. JOWETT. Edited by M. J. KNIGHT. Oxford, Clarendon

Press; New York, Macmillans, 1895. 2 vols. Pp. XXXVII -f

242, VII + 245. $3.50.
The Psychology of Number. J. A. MCLENNAN and J. DEWEY. New

York, Appletons, 1895. Pp. XIV + 309. $1.50.

NOTES.

"With the September number, the American Journal of Psychology
enters upon its seventh volume. The preceding volumes (1887-1895)
have been edited by President G. Stanley Hall (Clark University). For
the future, the editorial responsibility of the Journal 'will be shared by
President Hall, Professor E. C. Sanford (Clark University) and Pro-
fessor E. B. Titchener (Cornell University). A cooperative board
has been formed, which includes the names of Professor F. Angell,
Professor H. Beaunis, Professor J. Delboeuf, Dr. A. Kirschmann,
Professor O. Kiilpe, Dr. A. Waller, F. R. S., and Professor H. K.
Wolfe. The Journal will be devoted exclusively to the interests of
experimental psychology (psychophysiology, psychophysics, physio-
logical psychology, etc.). Each number will contain, as heretofore,
original articles, reviews and abstracts of current psychological
books and monographs, and notes upon topics of immediate psycho-
logical importance. Contributions may be addressed to either of
the three editors."

We take pleasure in inserting the above notice at the request of
Professor Titchener. In the meantime the Sept. No. of the Amer-
ican Journal has come to hand. Its title-page reads in part as
follows: "edited by G. Stanley Hall, President and Professor of
Psychology, Clark University, assisted by E. C. Sanford, Clark
University, and E. B. Titchener, Cornell University. With the

cooperation of etc., etc Clark University, Worcester, Mass.

J. H. Orpha, Publisher." We are obliged, in justice to the table of
contents of the first two volumes of THE PSYCHOLOGICAL REVIEW,
to protest against the following sentence from the ' Editorial ' of
this number of the Amer. Journal:

"I. The results of experimental investigations in psycho-physic
laboratories. To this Archiv function, not yet represented by any
serial publication in this field in English, etc."

642 NOTES.

. Professor A. RIEHL of Freiburg has accepted a call to the Uni-
versity of Kiel.

Dr. JOHN BIGHAM has been appointed Professor of Philosophy in
De Pauw University, Greencastle, Indiana. Work will be done in
experimental psychology.

Dr. W. G. SMITH (Edinburgh and Leipzig) has been appointed
Associate Professor of Philosophy in Smith College. He will have
charge of the work in experimental psychology, for which the trus-
tees recently made an appropriation.

The Revue Ne'o-Scolastique has begun a general bibliography ' des
Ouvrages et des Revues de Philosophic ' under the title Sommairc
Idtologique, beginning with the literature of 1895. The first instal-
ment, giving 595 titles, appeared in the July issue.

All communications for the editors of the PSYCHOLOGICAL REVIEW,
together with publications intended for review, should be sent dur-
ing the year beginning November ist, 1895, to Professor J. McKeen
Cattell, Garrison-on-Hudson, New York. Authors are especially
requested to make the sending of reprints, papers, &c., as prompt
and general as possible.

The second number of The Psychological Index, being a bibliography
of the literature of Psychology and cognate subjects for 1895, will
be issued on February ist, 1896. It is sent free to all subscribers
to the PSYCHOLOGICAL REVIEW. By arrangement with this REVIEW,
it will also be published in France as part of the Annfa Psychologique.
When authors are not able to send their publications to the REVIEW,
the receipt of the titles, with name of author and publisher, place of
publication (or name of Review or Archives), and number of pages,
will assure their proper insertion in the Index. Communications for
the Index should be sent to Dr. Livingston Farrand, Columbia Col-
lege, New York, or to Mr. Howard C. Warren, Princeton University,
New Jersey.

INDEX OF NAMES.

The page numbers are italicised in the case of contributors ; they are in large rnmao type in the
•case of authors reviewed ; they are in small roman type in the case of mention in the NOTES.

Aars, K. B. K., 518

Abelsdorf, G., 516

Aikens, H. A., 622

Angell, F., 197, 641

Angell, J. R., 6o9

Andriesen, W. L., 325

Armstrong, A. C., 299

Arre"at, L., 419

Avenarius, R., 612

Bache, R. M., 475

Baldwin, J. M., 189, 237, 244, 259,

403, 490, 495, 638
Balfour, A. J., 600
Barnes, E., 101
Beaunis, H., 92, 402, 641
Benham, W., 195
Bergstrom, J. A., 432
Bernes, M., 407
Berthelot, R., 305
Bettmann, S., 421
Bidwell, S., 84
v. Biervliet, J. J., 426
Bigham, J., 104, 641
Binet, A., 100, 92, 191, 214, 216,

*9St 327, 402, 415, 420, 428* 627
duBois-Reymond, C., 416
Bosanquet, B., 498
Boscha, H. P., 84
Bradley, F. H., 202, 319, 420
Brandt, F. B., 496
Brinton, D. G., 100
Bryan, W. L., 432
Calkins, M. W., 94, 363

Cattell, J. McK., 200,511, 521, 641

Charcot, J. M., 213, 534

Claiborne, J. H., 500

Cohn, J., 418

Collins, F. H., 190

Conta, B., 295

Creighton, J. E., 534

Cre"pieux-Jamin, J., 428

Cutler, C. W., 627

D' Alfonso, N. R., 202

Dallemagne, J., 287

Dana, C. L., 412, 625

Daniels, A. H., 422

Danville, G., 327

De"jerine, J., 309, 620, 623, 624

Delabarre, E. B., 313, 416, 517,

627

Delbceuf, J., 641
Deussen, P., 181
Dewey, J., 13, 186, 430
Dixon, E. T., 417
Donaldson, H. H., 7<f, 104, 300,

J2J, 4"

Dulles, J. H., 328
Dumas, G., an
Duncan, G. M., 202, 601
Durkheim, E., 306
Edgren, J. G., 196
Ehrenfels, C., 524
Ehrhardt, A., 197
Elkin, W. B., 104
Ellis, H., 458
Farrand, L., 641

643

644

INDEX OF NAMES.

Ferri, L., 432

Fitz, G. W., 37

Franklin, C. L., 84, 137, 3™,

516, 629
Franz, S. I., 130
Fraser, A. C., 495
Fullerton, G. S., 97, 180, 388
Gardiner, H. N., 200, 320, 399,

420, 634

Gilbert, J. A., 534
v. Gizycki, G., 432, 634
Glogau, G., 472
Gordy, J. P., 202
Gowers, W. R., 521
Gould, G. M., 190
Greenwood, T., 419
Griffing, H., 125
Grigoriew, A., 81
Griinbaum, A. S., 82
Griesbach, H., 630
Haeckel, E., 611
Hall, G. S., 641
Hancock, J. A., 193
Hartmann, E., 635
Heller, F., 531
Henri, V., 191, 216, 630
Hering, E., 87, 518
Hermann, L., 197
Hess, C., 84
Hibben, J. G., 75, 320, 369, 498,

524, 637

Hillebrand, H., 534
Hirsch, W., 290
Hirth, G., 415, 618
Hodge, C. F., 622
Hodge, C. W., 76, 612, 616
Hodgson, S. H., 97, 285
Hume, J. G., 408
Huxley, T. H., 574
Hyslop, J. H., 184, 303, 534
Irons, D., 279
James, W., 65, 103, 174, *fo 5*9

604

Janet, P., 534

Jerusalem, W., 202

Johnson, R. B., joj, 430

Johnson's Cyclopedia, 186

Jones, L., 522

Jordon, D. S., 189

Judd, C. H., jw, 606, 614, 631

Keith, A., 311

Kiesow, F., 89, 5j/, 638

Kirschmann, A., 179, 541

Kolliker v., 84

Konig, A., 312

Koster, W., 628

Kraepelin, E., 200, 216

Kuhne, O., 516

Kiilpe, O., 104, 501, 641

Kurditis, A. P., 631

Kurella, H., 408

Ladd, G. T., 180, 299, 394

Lapie, M., 616

Lee, S., 197

Leimbach, K., 636

Leonowa, O., 83

Lewy, W., 317

Lindenberg, O., 632

Lindley, E. H., 432

Lipps, T., 202

Lloyd, A. H., 104, 404

Loeb, J., 517

Lombroso, C., 288

Lugano, E., 78

Mach, E., 304, 328, 534

Mackensie, J. S., 216

Mahaim, A., 623

de Manaceine, M., 81

Mann, G., 80

Marshall, H. R., 57, 278, 504

Matthias, Fr., 197

Maudsley, H., 638

Mayer, A., 312

McCormack, T. J., 303

McCosh, J., 104

McLennan, S. F., 462, 630

INDEXOF NAMES.

64$

Mead, G. H., 399

Mellone, H., 324

Merkel, J., 200

Meyer, A., 625

Mezes, S., I04

Miles, C., 422

Mills, W., 416

Mingazzini, G., 413

Mirallte, Ch., 621

Montgomery, E., 615

Morgan, C. L., 399

Mlinsterberg, H., 53, 286

Nevers, C. C., 363

Kevins, J. L., 529

Newbold, W. R., 104, 348, 534, 611

Nichols, H.f 397, 487

Nordau, M., 289

Noyes, W., 211

Ormond, A. T., 181, 184, 304

Osborn, H. F., 189

Pace, E. A., 296

Parish, E., 65

Parrish, C. S., 424

Patton, F. L., 328

Patrick, G. T. W., 496

Paulhan, F., 320

Petzoldt, J., 528

Philippe, J., 296

Pick, A., 83

Pioger, G., 295, 322

Podmore, F., 67

Rebec, G., 104

Redlech, E., 79

Ribot, Th., 104, 199

Riehl, A., 404, 641

Robertson, G. C., 175

Royce, J., 217, 433

Sacritan, Ch., 534

Sanford, E. C., 419, 42a> 641

Schuchter, J., 614

Schwarz, H., 609

Scripture, E. W., 376, 379, 606

Sedgwick, A., 194

Sergi, G., 601

Seth, J., 75

Shand, A. F., 319

Sharp, F. C., 77

Shaw, W. J., 236, 239, 422

Shinn, M. W., 190

Shorey, P., 43

Sidgwick, H., 69

Simmel, G., 306

Simmons, M. B., 367

Small, A. W., 305

Smith, W. G., 318, 641

Sommer, R., 625

Snellen, H., 84

Sorley, J., 104

Stanley, H. M., jj, 43«

Starr, M. A., 33

Stern, L. W., 313

Stratton, G. M., 173

Stumpf, C., /, 534

Strong, C. A., 329, 487

Sally, J., 175

Swereff, M., 527

Tarde, G., 305, 616

Tawny, G., 630

Titchener, E. B., 64, 199, aoo,

424, 534, 641
Tokorskig, A. A., 522
Tracy, F., 190, 507
Tufts, 96, jos, 407, 6*8
Tuke, D. H., 328
Vialet, 624
Vignoli, T., 296
Vincent, G. E., 305
Vintschgau, M., 87
Volkmann, W., 403
Wagner, G., 521
Wake, C. S., 100
Waller, A., 641
Ward, J., 94
Warren, H. C., 92. 239, 273,

416, 421, 626, 641
Washburn, M., 104

646

INDEX OF NAMES.

Watanabe, R., 200, 424
Watson, J., 398, 490
Weber, T., 635
Weiland, C, 629
Wernicke, C., 512
Willey, A., 189
Windleband, W., 96

Witmer, L., 426

Wolfe, H. K., 382, 641

Wood, H. C., 277

Wundt, W., 43, 179, 200, 604

Ziehen, Th., 209

Ztircher, J., 637

INDEX OF SUBJECTS.

Ability, 155; Motor, 193 *
Accommodation and Converg-
ence, 417

Address, President's, 105, 152
^Esthetic Principles, Marshall's,

5<>4

After-images, 84, 130, 521

Agraphia, 621

American Psychological Associa-
tion, Proceedings of, 149

Amnesia, 196

Animals, Mental Development of,
154; Psychology of, Morgan's
book, 399; Hibernation of, 416

Anne*e Psychologique, 641

Anthropology, 100

Anthropometry, 510

Aphasia, 625

Apparatus, for Reaction, 37, 154,
244

Arc, Joan, 631

Association, 94, 363, 637

Attention, 53, 199, 317, 369

Automatic Processes, 348

Belief, 202; Balfour's Book on,
600

Biology, 189; Dictionary of, 190

Blindness, 170; Heller's Blinden-
psychologie, 531

Blood- Vessels of Retina, 392

Body and Mind, 43

Character, 428

Child Psychology, 101, 190, 507,
508

Color-Blindness, 87, 629; see
Vision.

Color-sensation, see Vision; in
Children, 507

Comparative Psychology, Mor-
gan's, 399

Consciousness, Identity and Dou-
ble, 159, 410

Constitution of Psych. Ass., 152

Contrast, of Square-size, 244; of
Color, 517

Criminology, Kurella's, 408, 413

Cyclopaedia, Johnson's, 186

Defect of Vision, 137

Degeneration, 287, 289

Demon-Possession, by Nevius,

529

Dermal Sensations, 125, 630

Desire, 164, 165, 462

Development, Mental, of Ani-
mals, 154, 194, 522

Dictionary of Medicine &c.,
Gould's, 190

Dreams, Greenwood's Book on,
419; of the Dead, 458

Educational Psychology, 101

Emotion, 13, 57, 64, 162, 166,
174, 279, 462

Ethical Literature, 75, 184, 436,
634 ; Books : Seth's, 7 5 ; Sharp's,
77; Hyslop's, 184; Dewey's,

430, 522

Evolution, books on: Osborn's,
189; Willey's, 189; Jordan's,
189; Collins', 190; Conta's,

295

Experimental, 92, 421
Extensity, 420

647

648

INDEX OF SUBJECTS,

Fatigue, 421, 630

Fovea, 137, 170,

Freedom of Will, 157

Function and Content in Psy-
chology, 635

Genesis, 287, 288, 290

Growth, of brain, 311

Habit, 631

Hallucinations, and Telepathy,
65, 168

Handwriting, 428, 621

Haunted Swing, 277

Hearing, 197

Helmholtz, H., i

Heredity, 290

Hibernation, 416

Identity, 159

Illusion, 168, 277, 630

Imagination, 419

Imitation, 161, 217, 305

'Index, The Psychological,1 641

Infinity, 97, 285, 388

Insanity, 325; see Pathology.

Insomnia, 81

Integration of Mind, 615

Interest, 462

Judgment, 202, 244, 498

Knowledge, 105, 152

Laboratory Studies : Columbia,
125; Clark, 154, 422; Prince-
ton, 236; Wellesley, 363; Yale,
379; Cornell, 424

Localization in Brain, 33, 171,
415, 512, 618, 625

Logic, 96 ; Bosanquet's, 498 ;
Wundt's Logik der Geistes-
wiss., 604

Love, Psychology of, 327

Median, Computation of, 376

Melancholy, 211

Memory, 199, 236, 239, 317, 367,
419

Men and Women contrasted, 363
Metaphysics, books on : Deus-

sen's, 181; Riehl's, 404.
Mind and Body, 43
Monism, Haeckel's, 6n
Movement, 428
Muscular Sense, 33, 171
Nerves of Pain, 487
Neurology, 78, 194, 309, 512, 618
New Books, 103, 214, 328, 431,

533, 640

Night-blindness, 627
Notes, 104, 216, 328, 432, 534

641

Origins, Theory of, 551
Pain, 162, 169, 329; nerves of,

487, 599

Paramnesia, 367

Pathology. 209, 287, 325, 433,
529, 637

Perception, Schwarz's book on,
609

Philosophy, books on : Robert-
son's, 175; Ladd's, 299, 394;
Watson's, 398; Fraser's Locke,
495; Ktilpe's, 501

Pleasure and Pain, 57, 164, 166;
Sergi's book on, 601

Proceedings of Amer. Psych.
Ass., 149

Protozoan, Mind in, 622

Psychiatry, 209, 512, see Path-
ology.

Psychological Literature, 65, 175,

287, 398, 495, 6o1
Psychology, the New, i, 382;
of Imitation, 161; at Toronto,
172; Books on, Wundt's, 179;
Ladd's, 180; Vignoli's, 296;
Hyslop's, 303; Morgan's, 399;
Binet's Anne"e, 402; Volk-
mann's, 403; Logic of, 604;

INDEX OF SUBJECTS.

649

Psychology (Continued)

Scripture's, 606; Subject-mat-
ter of, 612; Place of the Soul
in, 614

Questioning, Psychological^ 215
Races, Reaction-time of, 475
Reaction, 37, 259
Reaction-time, 200, 426, 475
Reality, Prof. Watson on, 490
Recognition and Association, 94
Retina Field, Position in, 244;

Blood-vessels of, 392
Rotation, Sensations of, 273
Science, Mach's book on, 304
Secretary's Report, Psy. As., 149
Self-consciousness, Anomalies of,

433, 574
Sensation, 53, 174, 273; see

Muscle-sense, Vision, Hearing,

Touch, Skin, &c.
Skin-Sensations, 125, 630

Social Psychology, 305, 407, 606

Soul, 614

Space-Perception, 585

Square - Size, Experiments on,
236, 239

Stimulation, Sensory, by Atten-
tion, 369

Studies: from Columbia, 125;
from Clark, 154, 422 ; from
Princeton, 236; from Welles-
ley, 363; from Cornell, 424

Taste, 89

Teleology, 632

Telepathy, 65

Threshold, of After-images, 130;
of Space-perception, 585

Time, 490

Toronto, Psychology at, 172

Types of Reaction, 259

Vision, 84, 137, 512, 416, 516, 627

Weber's Law, 241

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